Tag Force Anthology
by Lushard
Summary: A collection of stories featuring Red Hat / Konami-kun from TF Series. You can request / prompt stories and submit your OCs. ECHO - Chapter 4: Valentine's Day is supposed to be full of joy and hope, isn't it? Well. It doesn't.
1. AN & Prologue

**Author's Notes and Prologue**

**- Yu Gi Oh 5D's -**

**Tag Force Anthology**

* * *

0 ~ PROLOGUE ~ 0

* * *

_**What is this?**_

An anthology that is based on the popular Tag Force Series where everyone can Prompt / Challenge to be a part of the story. This anthology is not necessarily a collection of one-shots; some stories are directly linked to the other. These kind of stories shall be marked so people shouldn't be confused.

_**I'm the writer?**_

Yes. The protagonist from the game is nicknamed Red Hat because he doesn't have a default name other than KONAMI. The name and basic personality may belong to me, but the course of actions and stories are yours to decide. You can construct his past and tread his future through Prompts and Challenges.

**_Are these stories connected to each other?_**

Yes. There may be many titles, but they are all connected. There is no order in which the stories are posted, and thus time setting is a puzzle readers have to solve.

_**How do I post a Prompt / Challenge?**_

Sign in first because I will have to contact you through PM to further discuss the prompt(s) and challenge(s). Unsigned Prompts (especially with duels in the stories) shall be ignored / discontinued or may be continued without the original prompter's idea in the development if it's a multichapter story.

Follow the basic outline / form in my Profile Page to Prompt or Challenge.


	2. Echo - Chapter 1

***~ Echo ~***

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Starring: Aki I.

Genre: Romance / Drama / Humor

Rating: T

Time Setting: Tag Force 5

Story by: Lushard

Type: Multichapter

* * *

The sound of machine rumbling into life was faintly audible from the closed workshop at the first story of the apartment building. Aki Izayoi stopped in her tracks, rethinking her decision of making her way into the private garage. For once, the fury that had driven her all the way to this place waned. She began to hesitate.

Should she go inside? But what if he, too, was occupied by whatever project he was working on and paid her no mind? By the gods, if Yusei plus Bruno equaled her out of Popo Time, then him working on some machinery should more or less weighed the same. Well, he may not be as much as a machine geek as Yusei or Bruno was, but it didn't take a psychologist to know that he could be just as absorbed in working as much as the duo did. Sarcastically, she thanked the fact that _he _was not living under the same roof with the guys—only god knows what would become of Zora's place should he did.

"Are you not going to go in?"

Startled, Aki turned around to meet a familiar figure standing behind her. It was Saiga.

"Oh, did I scare you? Sorry," he said as he shrugged an apology.

Aki dismissed it quickly. "No, it's fine," she said, mustering a smile. "Are you here for some business?" Saiga was, as much as she knew, someone who worked as an informant in the lower quarter of the city. He was the gang's best bet to find any missing puzzle piece, he could even tracking a person just from an old photograph or a memo alone. She hadn't gotten to know the man more than she needed to, and she was reluctant to touch his secrets. Having lived in the underground world herself, she knew that it was always better to keep a distance from people like him.

"That was my question," he said, arching an eyebrow. He held out a hand that was holding a small box. "I'm just going to give this to him, but maybe I'll just ask you to do it for me. I'm in a kind of a hurry anyway."

Aki took the small, black box from Saiga and studied it closely. It appeared like an ordinary box with a small lock on one side, and it weighed really light too. "May I know what this box contains?"

Saiga smiled. "Ask him. It's his, not mine." Turning on his heel, he waved his goodbye before Aki could even form a reply. He disappeared around a corner, leaving her standing alone in front of the three-story apartment.

Great. Now she didn't have a choice anymore, did she? Fine, then... At least she could just say that she was dropping by to pass the item to him if he also hung a 'Do Not Disturb' sign over his chest. Heaving a sigh, she made her way into the garage, only briefly stopping to alert the man working in the place by pressing a bell to inform him of her presence. A muffled reply came through the intercom, signaling her to come in, and she obliged.

The place was just as messy as Yusei's: there were gears and scrapped Duel Runner parts scattered on the floor, two Duel Runner prototypes were stored on the other side of the room, while tools and spray cans were stacked carelessly on an old desk. Kneeling on the left side of one of the Duel Runner prototypes was a figure whose chestnut hair peeked from behind the gray frame. Realizing that she was carefully making her way without stepping on his belongings, the man stopped whatever he was doing and stood up, abruptly forcing the engine to make a bizarre chugging sound before it died completely.

"Busy as ever I see," said Aki as she assessed the man before her with a wrinkled nose. The whole place smelled like oil and metal, and from the black spots and smear on his gray tank top she could guess that he did too.

Osamu looked over the machine he'd been working on, then his dark eyes shifted to his own clothes. He put off his gloves and toss them onto a nearby chair. "You'll excuse me for this. So, what's up?"

Aki held out the box Saiga had given to her. "Saiga-san told me to give you this."

At the sight of the box, Osamu's entire face lit up. A wide grin was spreading over his face, and when the box'd finally been clutched in his hand, he looked at it with both disbelief and awe. "Thank you!" he breathed, not taking his eyes off the small item. "When did you get this?"

"Just now. He was just about to give it to you himself."

But Osamu wasn't listening to her anymore. He was busy studying the small lock on the box with wide eyes, seemingly wrapped in a world of his own. It was... strange, she decided. Two years around him had let her to see many sides of him: she'd seen him happy, angry, confused, even frustrated. But this... She had never seen him looking so... so _giddy_ like this.

Just before she could think of some words to pull him out of his thoughts, his head snapped at her, as if just realizing that he had just ignored his guest. "Oh, sorry," he quickly said. "I was just so... surprised that he really managed to find it." He shoved the box into his jeans' pocket. "Okay. Do you need my help in anything? You didn't come just to deliver the box, did you?"

"Well, no," she admitted, looking away. "I'm... in need of your help with some assignments."

Osamu raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh? I thought you'd gone to the gang's place—"

"I had," Aki cut him off, her tone sharper than she'd wanted it to. "Sorry. I mean, they're busy." Oh great, what had she just done? Surely she wasn't going off to someone's place to ask for help by stating that he was the only available person at the time. What kind of attitude was that?

Feeling stupid for getting frustrated in the first place, she was quick to amend: "I know you will be able to help me on these—of course, only if you have time to spare."

Sensing that Osamu was silently assessing her, she looked up to see the beginnings of a smile on his lips. "You needn't be so awkward," he commented. "Alright, but I'm going to have a shower first, unless—" he leaned closer to her—"you prefer me going this way."

At that she laughed and shoved him away lightly. "No way, Mister, you're going to the bathroom whether you like it or not. End of discussion."

He faked an insulted expression. "Ouch. You wound me, Mistress."

"Just go," she said between her laughter as she spun him by the shoulder, steering him to the stairway leading to the second floor.

Maybe it was just his pleasant mood that was beginning to infect her, or maybe it was simply because her guess had been proven wrong. But she felt... relieved. Her heart lighter. Guilt soon plagued her, though, reminding her that she'd just thought of him as the last resort.

They ascended the stairs and went straight to his room, which was, much to her bewilderment, strangely neat. It hadn't been the first time for Aki to be there, but she always found herself surprised at how ordered Osamu could be when his workshop resembled more like the engine room of a sunken ship rather than a garage. The room was not luxurious nor it was grand. It was pretty much an average one-bedroom-flat, but the large windows at one side of the room really made it seem more spacious than it was.

"Fetch yourself some drink," said Osamu as he disappeared behind the bathroom's door. "I just restocked."

She mumbled her thanks, and made her way to the kitchen. A smile was tugged at her lips the moment she saw what was inside his fridge. A carton of milk, cans of soda, packs of frozen meat and some eggs, apparently, were sufficient for the young man to function every day without any problems. On the surface, anyway. Zora and Martha would be furious if she knew about this, she thought as she grabbed a soda and went back into the living room.

She seated herself on the sofa, her eyes darting from one side to another, feeling a bad all of a sudden. When was the last time she'd come here? Maybe three or four months ago. She had almost forgotten how the place looked like, and not having any reason strong enough to drop by aside from asking for some help, she had rarely paid any attention to the place. Much less so to the inhabitant.

Truth to be told, Osamu had been the first person she'd sought for when it ever came to her business with the Arcadia Movement two years ago. And that was just because he had been the only person available at that time. Meeting Yusei and the gang had changed things, especially after they had discovered that they had this special connection as Signers, people who were marked by the Crimson Dragon. Ever since then, she remembered always running to the Popo Time first and Osamu's apartment last. And after peace had been restored to the city, she could use the fingers in one hand to count how many times she'd visited him until now.

Well, she used to go here with either the guys or the twins, and alone sometimes, and she knew they still visited each other frequently. Osamu was close to the guys, especially Jack, for some reasons everyone but Yusei could not fathom, and a friend to the twins too. But that was as far as it went. Him being a non-Signer had always seemingly got him out of the circle sometimes, even though she knew that none of them had intended to treat him like an outsider. It had just... happened.

The sound of of the shower had stopped, then the door slid open. Osamu emerged with his usual dark undershirt and black jeans, a towel was hung over one shoulder. "Okay. I'm done," he said. "Where will we be going?"

She stood up from the sofa, having already thought of the answer. "A cafe at the main district, if you don't mind."

* * *

xx - 5D's - xx

* * *

The cafe, being just newly opened a month ago, was surprisingly quite busy. It was not too crowded, thankfully, but almost every table there was occupied. But then again, it was nearly tea time, so people from around the district would likely stop by to grab a cup of coffee and some snack in the nearest place. And the second pleasant surprise was that they did have some good serving.

But the afternoon seemed to have more surprises for her.

Blinking in astonishment, she looked up from the sheet of paper in her hand to Osamu, who was resting his chin on one hand. His other hand was toying with his baseball cap on the table. He lifted his chin and said, "Does that formula work?"

"Work?" She echoed, her lips already pulled into a smile. "This is almost like a child's play for you, isn't it? I didn't even know that you can simplify the original formula into a simple equation like this. But the answer is the same, so I think it's correct."

"Good." He sipped on his coffee and his eyes started to roam over the place. "Have you ever been here before? This place's not half bad."

Aki shook her head. "No, this is my first time here. Some friends recommended it to me yesterday. And I have to agree with you: I think I kinda like it here too. And," she paused to turn a page on her psychic book and showed the content to him, "can you please try this one? I grasped the basics, but this..."

And_ that_ was the third surprise, she mused inwardly as she waited for him to work on the math. Osamu was a good teacher. No, 'teacher' might not be the right word... Teachers usually just teach, show examples and explain things to their students. But he didn't. Unlike Yusei, who was a patient tutor who always tried to explain everything bit by bit while giving her examples, Osamu was a silent problem solver who went mute the moment he picked up a pen. He would then come up with a simplified version of whatever formula that her books presented him with.

She was almost running out of questions when loud voices startled everyone in the cafe. It sounded like there were some people yelling at one another. One of the voice indicated the presence of someone she knew very well too. She and Osamu exchanged a glance, and he nodded. They were thinking of the same person.

The two rose from their seats and quickly went into the back of the cafe where the kitchen was, only to see two familiar figures standing against woman who seemed to be in her mid-forties. "Jack and Crow?" Aki inquired with disbelief. The two young men turned to see them—both of their faces were twisted in rage and fury. "What are you guys doing here?"

"He started it," shouted Crow, elbowing Jack before the blond could even form a reply. Jack scowled, but for some reason, kept his mouth shut.

The woman Jack and Crow were facing against stepped forward, her expression demanding. She had dyed her hair pink—if it weren't just a wig (Aki could not be sure)—and her long face was covered in super-thick makeup that she thought could only be seen on TV. "With all due respect, dear costumer, whether you are their acquaintance or not, I must insist that you stay away from our little negotiation." From looks to accent, this woman was really the symbolization of the word 'dramatic'. She was tapping her high-heeled foot to the floor in impatience while she was speaking; her arms were crossed over her chest, her whole posture suggesting that she was someone who used of being in control over everything. With a sneer in her voice, she continued, "Unless, of course, you are willing to pay for the bills."

"Bills?" Osamu narrowed his eyes, first at the woman, then at Jack. "What bills?"

Crow opened his mouth to speak, but the woman was faster. "This gentleman here," she waved her hand at Jack, "is currently on the top five of our most indebted list." Before anybody could say anything, she produced a notepad from her pocket and read aloud:

"Twenty four cups of burma, fifteen sponge cakes, twelve pizzas, seventeen cups of ice blended mocha, eighteen fish steaks, and he too has broken six plates and nine antique cups of our collection. This is the record of this month." Crow's face was turning red-purple at this, while Jack's was turning white. Osamu and Aki could only stare at the eccentric woman, not sure if they'd heard her right. "So," said the woman, "we will back to the one and only question." Her eyes narrowed dangerously, scanning each face as if searching for apparent signs of wealth. "_Who is going to pay_?"

"There's _no way _in hell I'm going to pay for those!" Crow exploded.

The woman simply shrugged. "Then we will be back to the first option: he's going to work here. Full-time. Until his debts are paid."

"Are you deaf, lady?" hollered Crow. "Didn't I just say that the next tournament is approaching fast? We can't have him serving coffee and cakes and train at the same time!"

If the woman was in any way offended by the marked duelist's words, she didn't show it. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that her makeup was doing a great job hiding it. "Well, it's all your choice," she said. "It's either him working here or... Well, we can always call the Sector Security. Based on rough calculation alone, he should spend at least three months working without payment." Her purple-lipsticked lips quirked upwards in a humorless smile. "I am being kind. Those antiques he broke are quite expensive, after all. And, oh, forgive the late introduction, but I am Jeannine, the owner of this place," she added with a wink.

Crow was about to shout again, but Osamu touched his arm to keep him silent. "I'm sorry, madam, but can you at least let him work as a part-timer instead?" he asked.

Jeannine was already shaking her head. "That's impossible, _carissima_. I cannot take someone who's earned a list as long as this to work as a part-timer." She held out the notepad so everyone might see the money Jack had to return, and Aki could sense Osamu tensing up beside her. She too couldn't help but flinch at the number of 0's. Obviously, no one in the room had a wallet thick enough to pay for the bills, and she quickly dismissed the idea of asking her parents for help. She had already troubled them enough by going missing for several years without notice; she wouldn't risk ruining their relationship for the second time by taking their kindness for granted.

Finally, Osamu spoke. "Crow, when will the tournament officially begin?"

Still with a scowl on his face, he answered, "One month and a half from now. And it's already bad enough that we can't train everyday with full member."

"Okay," Osamu said as he closed his eyes and drew in a long breath. He opened them again and, this time, looked straight at Jeannine. "I will also work here, then. Full-time."

Aki's jaw dropped half an inch, and she quickly snapped her head to stare at Osamu. "Are you sure?"

"I am. Though it doesn't mean I like it," he said in a low voice.

This time, Jack was the one who spoke up. "Hey, you can't be doing this." It was the first time she'd heard him sounding so... guilty. It was rare seeing the former king shutting his mouth in the first place, so hearing how his voice had lost its usual 'I'm-always-right' cockiness was rarer still. The blond man, after all, would usually simply shout in defense to guard his pride whenever he was cornered. The list on Jeannine's pad must have done the wonder. "It was my... mistake." The last word was barely a whisper, and the way he'd said it only earned him a glare from Crow.

"I would have said the same thing if it weren't because of my Black Bird Delivery Service," the marked duelist muttered.

Jeannine looked slightly pleased as she made a quick calculation on her pad, all business-like. "Hmm... Let's see... Doubled up, it means that you two should work for one month and a half."

Crow groaned. "It still means no training. And minimum preparations mean losing."

"We can always call the Sector Security if you're that persistent on not letting him work," reminded Jeannine with a half-smile.

"I volunteer."

All heads turned to the young woman who'd just spoken, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief as though she'd just said she was going to blow up the entire place. Aki tried not to squirm despite the fastening rhythm of her heart. She spoke again, a little louder and firmer this time. "I... I volunteer to take a part-time job to support them."


	3. Echo - Chapter 2

***~ Echo ~***

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Starring: Aki I.

Genre: Romance / Drama / Humor

Rating: T

Time Setting: Tag Force 5

Story by: Lushard

Type: Multi-chapter

* * *

"Have you worked as a waitress before?"

"No."

"Ever got a similar job?"

"No."

"What kind of part-time job have you had?"

"Umm... I've never worked before."

A quirk of eyebrow. "Never as in... _never_?"

"Well..."

At that, Jeannine sighed. From a short period of time Aki had spent around her, she knew that the eccentric woman was someone who would never bother to hide her feelings. She sighed at the merest act of clumsiness, clicked her tongue whenever impatience haunted her, and rolled her eyes at almost _everything. _

If yesterday had been a mess, than today was probably going to be worse. Sure, she hadn't expected to be working exactly a day after she'd volunteered, but, hey, could her first day at work be any better? For starters, it was Saturday; a day where any public places would be full with customers. And plus, the cafe was new, so no one would really be able to tell one waitress from another, which meant less chance of her attracting attention. But that was as far as it could go...

Judging from the expression Jeannine was wearing, the answer to her question was no. Aki didn't know if all employers were always expecting trouble from their new recruits, but for Jeannine, it seemed like she was ready to strip Aki off her uniform as soon as she made a mistake.

The tall woman was wearing a blue wig today, a color that matched her outfit and high heels. Her lips however, stayed purple, though with lighter shades of white this time. Aki briefly wondered how much time the woman spent every day in front of her dressing table—and tried not to think how she would look like without her makeup.

"My, my, my... We have someone lucky here," said Jeannine with an icy smile. Held in one hand was her notepad; her other hand was busy fanning herself. "You must be either very busy or rich that you have never worked on a part-time job before." Her smile widened. "Don't put a face like that, I was only joking. Listen, _principessa_, sense of humor is very important when working. It attracts people."

_And people bring money_, Aki absently thought. "Yes, Miss—"

"Call me Jeannine," she quickly said with a dismissal wave of her manicured hand. The nails were painted purple to match her lipstick, Aki noticed. "Believe me, I'm younger than I look. Ah, here's our gentleman."

Osamu walked in through the opened door to the private office. Dressed in a fitting uniform of a waiter, Aki almost didn't recognize him. Apparently, a white shirt with turned down collar, decent black trousers and a waistcoat could change even the ugliest of men into charming princes.

She had never seen Osamu dressed in decent clothing before since he seemed to have always fancied jeans and worn-out shirts, and so, she had never really taken his looks into account. Not that he was bad looking in the first place... It was simply hard to appreciate a man for his looks when he was always smeared with oil and smelled of metal.

"Where's the blond boy?" asked Jeannine.

"Oh, Jack is still busy dressing up," Osamu replied. He was still working on the buttons on his sleeve, looking strangely comfortable in his new outfit. "He couldn't find a shirt his size. The waistcoat looks like a corset on him. Maybe you would want to order a special one."

The blue-haired woman cringed at the thought of spending extra money on Jack. Perhaps in her mind, the former king was already a criminal. "Fine," she sighed after making a short calculation on her pad. She returned her attention to Aki. "The shop will be open in thirty minutes; you may want to start helping the others in preparing the place. I have already e-mailed you all the things you have to remember doing while working here, but most of all: _smile_." She shot her a sharp look as she emphasized the word.

Aki offered a stiff nod. Jeannine rolled her eyes. "I mean, _smile_, princess," she pressed. "Starting from _now_."

Aki immediately obliged. She put on a smile, or rather, what she _hoped_ was a smile. But deep down she knew it looked more like a grimace. And sure enough, Jeannine was quick to show her disapproval. "Okay, I will give you fifteen minutes to practice how to really smile. Go search for a mirror—wait, no, it'll probably take forever. You," she turned to look at Osamu. "Smile."

The young man complied.

A gentle smile was slowly curling on his lips, softening his features in a way no one would have thought possible. It was not the usual smile Osamu would put on when he was amused, nor it was a polite smile one would wear in formal occasions. It seemed... genuine, or better yet, sweet. His eyes darkened as his lips froze, making him look more matured and thoughtful. For a moment, he looked like a different person.

Jeannine snapped his fingers. "That's it! Now, you, _signorina_, go with the gentleman here and learn as much as you can from him."

Dismissed, the two quickly made their way out of the office. "This is harder than I thought," Aki mused aloud after the door was shut behind them. She had wondered how her first day would be like, but she hadn't expected it to be this tiring. Spending ten minutes in Jeannine's office was already torture, she couldn't bring herself to imagine what the rest of the day would be like.

"It is not," said Osamu. "Just smile like you always do when you're with your friends."

She was already shaking her head. "I tried! But it's—oh, I really can't—" Her words were halted as Osamu grabbed her wrist and began dragging her through the hallway. "Where are we going?"

"The dressing room."

Aki tried to protest but his grip on her was firm. Entering a room full with cabinets, large wooden wardrobes and dressers at the end of the hallway, Osamu walked her to a large mirror sitting at a corner. There were some people there, but thankfully, no one was really paying attention to them. Everyone seemed to be busy with their own outfits and makeups to notice the two newcomers. Aki stared at her reflection in confusion. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Just smile," Osamu said.

Aki tried to comply with a sigh, but the identical girl in a black and white outfit who was staring at her from the mirror looked as if she was just about to cry. Osamu frowned at her reflection and folded his arms across his chest, studying her face carefully.

"No, not like that. Smile like you mean to. Smile like you're truly happy." He paused. He seemed to be desperate for words. "Smile as if you're having a good time with your closest friends or parents."

She tried again, and this time, it _did _look like a smile, although seemed to be a bit strained.

"That's better." Osamu's eyebrows were still knitted in concentration though. "But not enough. You look like you're smiling just because you're forced to. It doesn't come up to your eyes. It looks... fake."

At that, Aki snapped. "Look, I'm trying, okay? It's not like I don't want to, but this is utterly ridiculous!" What was it that she was lacking? Competence? Experience? Gods, was it her fault that she hadn't been able to enjoy a normal teenage life? Was if her fault that she'd been a social outcast for three years? "Sorry for being a slow learner, but I'm really trying to do my best and all everyone ever does is criticizing—!"

It took three seconds for Aki to realize that the room had gone completely silent. Everything seemed to have frozen in time: nobody in the room was moving or talking anymore. Osamu—_everyone_ was looking at her with wide eyes.

She had lost her cool.

She had been shouting.

Before she could take it all in, she already found herself running towards the door.

* * *

xx - 5D's - xx

* * *

Her feet seemed to have thoughts of their own as they carried her to the small area at the back of the cafe where the storage building was. She stopped behind the two story building and panted. Leaning against the brick wall, she tried to fill her lungs with fresh air. Her throat was dry, and her head felt heavy. Worse, she felt _sick._

The looks everyone had given her... Their disbelieving faces, coupled with fear and accusation that told her she was a misfit...

No. Not those memories again. She didn't want to remember it; that day... The day that everyone started calling her names and threw disgusted glances at her...

_Stop._

They weren't listening. They kept calling her monster, those shadows of her past. They kept calling her an anomaly; a reject. She couldn't shut their voices, and was now frantically searching for a 'turn off' button in her head to make everything stop.

_"Are you saying that you are a normal person?"_ a little voice asked. The voice was her own, though the force that made it audible wasn't. _"Weren't you expecting this? Their rejection."_

Yes. Somewhere in her heart, she knew she would never be able to be 'normal.' Who else had the power to call a dueling monster into existence? Who else could deal real damage on a duel?

_"You think once you're back in your parents' home everything will be fine."_

_Stop...!_

What had Divine used to say, again? That she was special? Oh, wasn't that what everyone would say when they wanted to gain something they didn't have from a stranger? How could she have fallen victim to those sweet nothings of his?

_I don't want to remember!_

"Aki!"

The sound of Osamu's footsteps racing after her emerged from the building, but she was too tired and distracted to move from her position. The back door bolted open, and soon he was at her side, an expression she couldn't quite name was on his face. She saw him reaching to touch her shoulder, so she quickly shoved his hand away and turned her back on him, once again trying in vain to control her ragged breathing by wrapping her arms around her own body. He mustn't look at her—not when she was in a state like this.

Not him. Not anyone.

"Hey—"

"Leave me alone," she cut him off. Her voice was low and hoarse, and she hated the sound of it.

Osamu didn't move for a short while, hesitating perhaps. Aki could sense his presence only a step away from her, and she felt threatened by the proximity. He was not leaving. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "I didn't mean to sound so harsh like that. I'm sorry if my words have hurt you."

She didn't reply nor turn around. Osamu said, "If... If you can't forgive me, that's fine. But—"

"It's not you."

"Huh?"

Aki's voice had been barely a whisper. She tried to clear her throat, but speaking came out in dry sobs instead of clear words. "Please... Leave." Why couldn't she control her emotions? Why did those memories have to resurface so suddenly like that? Again she shook her head, desperately wanting to just melt away into nothingness. "Just leave."

She could feel Osamu shifting his weight to one foot; more hesitation. But he lingered. "I won't." He sounded calm and patient, but she could hear the doubts in his voice.

Aki allowed herself a bitter smile at his persistence. "I'm not mad at you. Not anymore. It's just..."

"You need to be alone and think?" He supplied. Slowly, he circled around her with deliberate steps, as if afraid of her reaction. She stayed still though her head was still hung low. "I would have complied, if it weren't for the fact that we're _working _and only _ten_ minutes away from opening hours," he said softly, though the light sarcasm wasn't missed. "I... know you've been through a lot, and working under someone like Jeannine does not seem to be a perfect first working experience. But, if you think you won't be able to do it, then you're wrong."

The shadow that loomed over her was tempting her to lift her face up, to look at his eyes and find compassion in the hazel orbs, or to simply find comfort in his solid presence. She was being unreasonably childish, she knew, but for some reason, she couldn't brush off this... _need_ to be comforted.

There had been times when he was the only person she'd had in mind when she had been running through the dark alleys avoiding the Sector Security. Somehow, those memories had been buried, replaced by the faces of everyone smiling at her: by Yusei's, her parents', and her newly made friends' at the Academy.

The peaceful days that had been like a dream had her memories of the moments shared with him dimmed. She had forgotten how soothing silences shared with him could become, or how consoling his words were in times of desperation.

Osamu drew in a long breath, one hand moving to rest on his hip. "Now look at me."

Slowly, her eyes travelled upward, lifting her gaze from his feet up to his face. The chestnut hair that was used to be hidden by a red cap was tousled, obviously from all the running, and the face that stared down at her was straight and thoughtful.

She was lost in thought for a short moment, then she remembered how she must have looked: eyes red with dry tears, face crumpled in exasperation, hair tangled in a mess. Aki quickly turned around and hid her face with one hand, scrubbing a sleeve against her eyes. A reflex any girl would have developed in her teenage years no matter what kind of life she'd been leading.

Osamu chuckled at her reaction, making her already semi-red cheeks turn purplish in embarrassment. "Turn around if it makes you feel better," he said with a shrug. "Though I won't be able to see you smile when you're concentrating so hard to burn down the grass like that."

"Stop it," she said. She'd meant it to sound firm and serious, but it came with a soft giggle instead.

"I will, if you do as you're told."

Forcing down the blush, Aki once again redirected her gaze at him. Two years ago, she wouldn't have minded him staring at her the first thing after waking up. But after she'd settled back into society... Well, either way it was her conscience telling her not to embarrass herself in front of people. And having a conscience was a good thing; it prevented you from being lost in your own world. That was, at least, what Yusei had used to say.

"Beautiful," Osamu breathed, feigning awe. "Hm. Jeannine wouldn't be able to recognize you this way. You look like a mix of panda and tomato with that swollen face."

She bit her bottom lip to hold herself from laughing and slapped his arm lightly. "_Stop_!"

Osamu was already laughing. "Yeah, lesson's learned, princess." In a swift motion, he seized her face on both cheeks with two hands and leaned forward until his face was only centimeters away from hers. Aki quietly gasped in shock. "Now keep _that _smile on your face and you'll do wonders."

He let go of her face and began making his way into the cafe, all the while smiling that little amused smile of his.

Aki let out the breath she'd been holding, barely recalling the moment of it hitched in her throat. The places where his hands had touched felt oddly warm. Tingly, even. And there was a... feeling she could not quite identify that was beginning to tight the knots in her stomach.

It was strange, the chill bumps she was getting. It reminded her to the feeling when she'd been chased by the Security guards for being a murder suspect branded by Arcadia. But at the same time, the sensation it brought to her felt almost elating—as if she was... What...? Thrilled?

She must have been standing statue-like for quite some time when Osamu's head peeked from the opened door to check on her. "Still wanting to burn down the grass?" he called out, putting an end to her reverie. "We only have five minutes left and you might want to fix your makeup and hair."

"C—coming."

She quickly jogged after him, pushing everything that'd been baffling her to the back of her mind. Everything could wait until her shift ended, right? After all, she had a job to do.


	4. Wish - Chapter 1

***~ Wish ~***

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Starring: Sherry L.

Genre: Romance / Action

Rating: T

Time Setting: Tag Force 6

Prompted by: Grizlight

OC [Haley Zerown] belongs to: Grizlight

Type: Multichapter

* * *

"Now, Dark Armed Dragon, attack!"

As the black scaled dragon in gray skeletal armor launched to heed his master's command, Sherry was forced to skid to her side. One of her monsters, Ancient Sacred Wyvern, recoiled in fear just a second before the dragon sank its massive claws at the wyvern.

The white monster howled in agony, and the hologram faded with a digital explosion. Sherry sped up, trying to dodge the impact of the attack so her Duel Runner wouldn't lost its balance.

"You're down, Sher," called a voice from behind. She risked a glance at the Duelist who was just some feet away from her. He had closed his distance yet again, that Osamu, his black and white Duel Runner roaring loudly in anticipation. "You were too focused on offense."

"Were I?" She accelerated again. This time, Osamu didn't speed up; Sherry could see his mouth twitch, and the smile was to quick to settle on her own lips.

Most duelists would imeediately try to catch up by now, or at least, try to level their speed with hers. But this was Osamu. He was never someone who jumped into a duel with a blind determination to win—he was a patient combo builder. That much she knew. The red-capped young man was, after all, someone who often thought more than twice before taking action—he was someone who was even more cautious than Yusei Fudo.

But that was very predictable of him. "You think I challanged you without tuning up my Runner first or what?" she taunted when Osamu didn't raise his speed.

The young man kept silent, but the smile was not leaving his face.

"Well, don't think I'm going to let you win so easily—" Her words were halted by a strong gust of wind that blew onto her face. Without her realizing, the road had narrowed, and the most shocking thing was, that there were piles of rubble on the asphalt which trheatened her more. Acting on instinct, Sherry avoided the bigger ones, stumbling twice, but without losing her control over the white Runner. Behind her, she could hear Osamu laugh.

"You're the one who's underestimating me, aren't you?" he shot back. Osamu had sped up by now, his Runner only some meters away from hers. Had he been waiting for her to lower her guard...?

Despite her heart's thundering rythm, Sherry allowed herself to laugh. It was always soothing to hear him sound so light-hearted like that; his laughter was infectous.

She remembered the times when she'd gone to his apartment when her trackers had bombed her place two years ago. Well, it had been the Tag Duel Tournament, actually. She had wanted to borrow his power to hunt down the ones who'd targeted her and murdered her family. She had used herself as a decoy back then, all the while dragging him along, getting him into all kinds of dangers she hadn't accounted for, things she had thought she would be able to control.

She had expected him to leave—had even _tried shoving _him away with both words and cards—but he'd stayed. He had simply shrugged nonchalantly when she'd insulted him with sarcastic remarks, had only smiled coyly when she'd challanged him.

Elsworth, her most trusted ally, had warned her about the young man before. _"Men so unpredictable are dangerous,"_ the butler had said. _"More so when he seems so uninterested in what chances could offer."_

For Obelisk's sake, Sherry had run out of idea on how to read Osamu through. At times he could be as lenient and laidback as any sleepyheads one would meet in the streets... But there were also times when he would display determination so strong that often left her, or anyone, speechless. The moment when he had stood in her way when facing Lazar was a fine example.

What about money, then? Had she tried _that _one little trick of the desperate? Of course she had! But the odd thing was, Osamu _wouldn't _say _no_ to bribery. Sherry had tried pursuading him to do some dirty works before—like hacking into Sector Security Beureau or asking him to deliver some encrypted message to an affiliate—to which he'd _accepted_: both the tasks _and _the money. So, if one were to aske whether he was chivalrious or someone who'd stay in the path of righteousness, the answer was no. By any means at all.

But even stranger still, Osamu seemed to show little interest in pursuing jobs that would easily grant him a lot of cash. It wouldn't be hard to earn fame and money with the skills he possessed as a Turbo Duelist. But as it'd been stated, he never showed any interest whenever Sherry tried to persuade him into seeking more promising jobs. He would simply shrug, and say something like, _"I'm happy as I am now," _or, _"Being a mechanic is not as bad as you think," _or in a more irritating tone that had often irked her nerve, _"You're just jealous that I could eat three times a day without worrying of being poisoned, aren't you, Sher?"_

What had all the data-gathering, bantering, and teasing told her of him? Only that he was a man whose mind was curtained for others to see through. His ways were baffling; his decisions so puzzling.

If Osamu were a puzzle, he would be one of the most complicated games that ever existed. The complete image presented on the cover may looked pretty simple, but when one tried to match some pieces together, one's expectations would often prove to be wrong. She had often reassembled everything in frustation mid-game.

Though it didn't mean that Sherry hadn't added _any_ pieces to complete the puzzle.

"Don't think you've won just yet," she said before Osamu could catch up with her. "Fall into my trap! Activate now: Liberty At Last!"

A shape of a card materialized beside her Runner, shining brightly before it settled into a solid image. Before her Trap Card shot open, suddenly, all the holograms were starting to fade. Upon seeing this, Osamu decreased his speed until his Runner came into a stop. Sherry did the same.

"What is this?" she inquired when her Duel Runner was emitting an alarming signal. The monitor said 'Unidentified Number' was reaching into their system. It seemed to be affecting the Duel Engine.

"We've got company," said Osamu. His Duel Runner too was reading the same signal. He tried to jam a button to shut it down, but the faint beeping sound was not yielding. In fact, it only got louder by each passing second.

Sherry was about to open her mouth to ask something when she caught a faint sound of a Duel Runner speeding up at the empty road. She looked around and spotted a figure who was fastly approaching them. "Uh-oh," Osamu said. "Bad news."

The moment the chaser was close enough for Sherry to inspect, it was already too late for them to plan an escape. Bathed in the orange light of the sun, Sherry could make out of a white Duel Runner that obviously belonged to a Sector Security member. The guy riding it was not wearing SS standard helmet, but there was no mistaking of the model, for such Duel Runner was only produced for the SS to use. Sherry tried not to look irritated at the sight of the interruptor.

"Some fancy duel you two were having," said the rider as soon as he'd gotten near enough to slow down his Runner. He stopped just some paces away from the two Duelists and eyed them with open curiosity. "You guys know that this area is off-limits, right?"

"What will you do if we say that we don't?" Sherry asked with a raised eyebrow.

The SS grinned at her words. "I can't guarantee anything, I'm afraid." He was a young man who seemed to be in his late teens. He had this look of innoncence that Sherry found strange on an SS member like him, and his looks did nothing to downplay it. He had this unruly dark red hair that gleamed under the sunlight that was in a messy state—from the riding; his eyes were of blazing blue.

"So what will you do? Arrest us?" asked Osamu. He was speaking with an impossibly straight face that would do Sherry's butler proud.

The SS guy shrugged. "Normally so. But to tell you the truth, this area, although off-limits to civilians, is also not directly under _our _watch. Well, it still belongs to the Government," he added hastily, "but it is not an area where we can freely roam and arrest people."

That was to be expected. This area, as far as she knew, was outside the boundaries of Neo Domino City. They were at one of the many highways that had not been used for years, especially since the Dark Signer's invasion. Although they were quite close to Satellite Sector, the highway didn't directly connect to the downtown. The closest sector to them was the Frontier, whic was probably miles away from where they were now. So, to be blunt, they were practically in the middle of nowhere.

Sherry said, "What business do you have with us, then?" As far as anyone could tell, the SS had a very bad reputation at misusing their authority. She was sure they had changed overtime under Tetsu's watch, but there was still a nagging doubt whenever she came into contact with any of their personnels. People didn't change in mere weeks.

"Whoa, cool down, lady," the red-haired man said. "I may not be authorized to arrest you for being in a place like this, but I _can _arrest you for commencing a duel outside of Neo Domino's perimeter without permission."

Osamu narrowed his eyes dangerously, looking disgusted. "If my memory hasn't failed me, all duels that are commenced outside of the city are legal, as long as they don't stray _into _it."

"Maybe that is so, but still, you guys are rightfully logged in as Neo Domino's civilians at the moment. And this place still being under Neo Domino's territory—no matter how distant and deserted this desolate area is—proves that the law still governs." The red-haired man snapped his fingers, looking almost too cheerful to be able to say his line. "So, yep, I can still arrest you guys. Got the point now?"

Osamu faintly snorted. "You're being absurd..."

"But that was all on paper anyway."

"What do you mean?" Sherry asked. There was something in the way that the red hair grinned that made Sherry instantly suspicious and wary. From the doubting expression Osamu wore, he too was having a hard time reading the SS guard.

"It means, young lady, you both are such skilled duelists that I just couldn't help but to speed up and catch up with you two," he said with a wink.

Osamu started laugh. "So you're saying that this is all a prank?"

"Not quite. You see, a good duel is hard to come by when you're an SS member, really," the red hair was saying. "Eversince Ushio-san decided to re-establish the SS, everything is kinda hectic. We've got a lot of jobs to do, and most of them are either partolling or simply catching criminals on the loose..."

With patience growing thin, Sherry cut him off, "Let's back to square one, shall we? Just _what _are you going to do with us?"

The red hair, for some odd reason Sherry didn't want to know, only grinned even wider—which made him look a lot more younger. "I think I should have stated my purpose plain and clear by now. I want to challange you two into a duel."

For a moment, the only sound in the area was the soft purring of three Duel Runners on standby. Finally, Osamu blinked and said, "You want to what?"

"Oh, come _on_," the red hair moaned. "Don't tell me you've never been challanged by an SS member..."

They had. Several times. And not even one of those challanges had been a pleasant thing to remember. Sherry said to Osamu, "Basically, he's threatening us."

Osamu looked at Sherry, then at the red hair. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but decided against it. Sherry took the cue as a sign that he was at a loss of words, which was rare.

The red hair raised his eyebrows. "I'm not really the type to threaten beautiful ladies such as you, Miss, but it seems like you won't accept it unless I do."

Things were not pretty as they were. To be truthful, Sherry wasn't sure she was endangered here; she could always break free from this strange SS guy and leave Neo Domino. She wasn't going to stay any longer in the city anyway, so what bad would it do to her if she ended up in some authority's most wanted list? She had her fill of being chased around all her life, she was sure she could trick them and slip away. But that could only work if she were on her own...

"You don't leave us with any choices at all, do you?" said Osamu with a scowl.

The red hair shrugged in reply. "I do personally think this is a generous offer," said he. "Normally, we would simply catch you two off guard and force you into a Riding Duel or jam your network—with some deficiencies on your side, of course. We have some cool jammer at disposal, you see."

At that, Sherry had to will herself not to roll her eyes in annoyance. Now she couldn't possibly drag _him _into more mess, could she? "Fine. It's not like we can run from you _now _anyway."

If the young man hadn't worn an SS suit, Sherry swore she would have mistaken him for a fifteen year old with some over enthusiasm problem. Whatever that he seemed to think was displayed on his face. Whenever his emotions lit up, his eyes would sparkle like that of a child upon seeing his first Duel Runner. Much to her irritation, it all just made the guy so utterly _hard _to hate despite his occupation.

"Cool! A duel it is, then! O' yeah, I almost forgot to tell you," he hastily said "My name's Haley. Haley Zerown."

This time, Osamu was the one who supressed a sigh. "Okay, Zerown. We'll play by your rules."

Literally bouncing off his Runner, Haley Zerown brightened up as he howled. "Sweet! That's what I wanted to hear! Let's get it on!"

This time, Sherry did roll her eyes.


	5. Bond - Chapter 1

***~ Bond ~***

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Starring: Yusei F.

Genre: Action-Adventure / Friendship

Rating: K+

Time Setting: Tag Force 4

Prompted by: Yami E

Type: Multichapter

* * *

It was almost midnight when Yusei Fudo had finished tuning his Runner. Stretching his stiff arms wide, he inspected his work one last time before turning off the lamp. Yusei Go had just been tuned specifically for speed and acceleration. He had spent the day figuring out how to make the Runner run more smoothly on uneven ground and how he could upgrade the main computer to enhance the booster.

The result? Well, he may not have been able to achieve what he'd set out to do, but it was acceptable. At least he had broken the speed limit he'd set for today.

Pleased with the work, Yusei threw a gray sheet to cover the red Runner and exited the garage. He climbed up the stairs leading to the second floor, taking care not to wake his house-mates as he made his way to his room. But before he could enter his room, a faint sound from some distance away froze him.

It was definitely a sound of a Duel Runner crashing that he had just heard. That was a common thing to happen down here, in Satellite. But something was not right. There wasn't any alarms being raised, nor there could be heard the Sector Security Runners following the crash. Yusei stood still for a second, but there was nothing to be heard. No buzzing engines of Duel Runners, no sirens; nothing.

With mind racing in thoughts, Yusei quickly bolted to the garage and pulled out the cover of his Runner. He jammed the Turn-On button, and within a split second the engine hummed softly into life.

"Where are you going?" asked a voice from the second floor that Yusei knew belonged to Rally. The kid's footsteps were diwndling through the stairs. He seemed to be half-awake.

"I'm going to check out something out there. Go back to sleep," Yusei said. Without waiting for a reply, he opened the garage door with a switch and rode away.

Yusei let his sleepiness be washed away by the cold wind that blew his face. The empty streets were not somewhere people dared to wander around without some measure of protection; there were usually youngsters ganging up in these alleys—hanging out or simply waiting for a lone fool to fall prey into robery. Stranger still, he spotted none of such gangs tonight. There was something very wrong here, he decided. Well—_anything _would be considered as 'wrong' if it could make _the_ infamous Satellite into a seemingly peaceful little town deep in slumber.

A short three minutes of riding at full speed was enough to bring him to the northen part of the sector. There was not so much around this area: only piles of junk scattered everywhere, old buildings that were remnants of the facilities in days long past, and the bridges that had not been used for ages. Those bridges led to various places outside the Satellite, and although they were closed off by the authority, some defiants who never bothered to care about rules on paper used these bridges quite often to travel in and out of the sector.

As he rode deeper into the sector, he started to hear the rumbling sounds of Duel Runners in a distance, and voices of people talking. There seemed to be a group of people—of riders—in there. What were they doing in an abandoned area like this? Wait, he was not going to stumble in some war between ruling gangs, right?

But that couldn't be the case, he quickly thought. There were too many voices; too many Duel Runners. No war between gangs would result in a commotion _this _big. It sounded as if people were gathering in one place to attend some big event.

Sure enough, his hunch was proven true the moment he spotted a blur of light that must be coming from Duel Runners. The road had narrowed into a single lane that was connected to the Outer Rim. There were almost no lights here, everything was engulfed in darkness, the beams from Yusei's Duel Runner, and perhaps tens of similar vechiles a hundret feet ahead of him were his only guide.

There was a crowd of people on Duel Runners. Some of them had their Runners parked on one side of the road, and some others were still mounted on theirs; but they were all crowding to the left side of the road where the broken separator provided them with a clear view of what must be dozens of roads below. Were they watching something? But what could it possibly be?

Yusei neared the crowd, almost unnoticed, and asked to a man nearest to him, "What's with the crowd?"

Still mounted on his Runner, the man turned to face Yusei and gestured at the darkness below with a slight movement of his chin. "There's a show down there."

"Show?"

"An arrest," he shrugged. "Or, it's more like, an attempt of arresting."

Baffled, Yusei frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

The man beckoned for Yusei to the edge, waving a gloved hand toward the multiple roads below them. "See for yourself."

Yusei drove his Runner closer to the edge, trying to push past some bystanders. The sound of several Runners on standby was carried through the air. There had to be more than five riders down there, he suspected. He squinted at the looming darkness below, trying to make out something from the flicker of lights and beams that were moving in a dizzying pattern.

At last he saw it: those runners did belong to the SS—there were at least seven of them, each moving on a different lane at full speed. A red beam that was distinct from the yellow ones indicated that they were chasing a lone rider, who was now leaping over a separator in order to climb to a higher plane. Those roads were interchanging with one another, and that was what made Yusei and these curious souls able to monitor them from a higher ground. As long as they didn't ride off into one of those tunnels hidden down there—which probably wouldn't going to happen since no one could ever know for sure which was passable and which was not—they would provide entertainment to passbyers.

"Is that guy from here?" Yusei heard one of the riders asking his peer.

A guy with bandana shrugged. "Never seen his Runner around here before, that's for sure."

It was too far out for Yusei to see him clearly. But from the his movements, he could tell that he was a skilled rider. The way he leapt to one platform to another was similar to how a certain friend of his moved. But this rider was doing it in a more graceless manner; his movements were sharp, but seemed a bit wild and rough. That what made Yusei suddenly had a second thought of leaving the place.

Jack's wild dance and Crow's style of riding.

Realization struck him like a lightning bolt. It couldn't be, right...?

The one being chased did a manouver and skidded past two SS personnels who had tried to ambush him. He slithered past the third and accelerated again to gain momentum. The bold movement immediately earned him enthusiastic cries from the watchers.

The rider and his pursuers were closer to the road where Yusei and the people were watching from. He could identify them clearly now: the white Runners bearing the SS insignia, the white helmets of the pursuers and the angry snarl on some of their faces, and of course, the lone rider's blue and silver Runner. Yusei's heart almost skipped a beat at the glimpse of the rider's face. He hadn't grasped his features closely, but without a doubt, beneath the helmet the guy was wearing, there concealed a face he knew all too well.

"Uh-oh," said one of the bystanders, breaking Yusei's reverie. "He's going to get into trouble now."

Before he could ask what he meant by more trouble, the road where the rider and some of his pursuers were running on began to shrink. The slight movement caught all of them off guard, and for a moment, Yusei almost thought that the rider was going to lose his balance and fall. He regained his balance in time, thankfully, but not before the lines began _moving. _

Rotation.

These highways were designed to rotate in every two hours to prevent Satellite riders to slip away from the secluded area. The idea belonged to a certain someone who happened to have proposed the idea of isolating Satellite in the first place. The person was no more, but some of his inventions remained.

As if on cue, all other lines below began to move. The people hollered in excitement upon seeing this, eager for a more thrilling show now that there was a real challange. The pursuers were going to have more advantage at this point: having more numbers and data of the Rotation on their monitors.

Yusei spent no time to think further. He launched his Runner into the darkness below.

* * *

xx - 5D's - xx

* * *

Although the highways were moving slowly, it didn't mean that it made things prettier for those who were riding on them. Yusei rode past an SS guard who cursed at the sight of him.

The lone rider was still a mile away from where he was, and there were still five SS guards who blocking the way. There was no telling what they were going to do should he drove too close to them. So, in one smooth motion, Yusei leapt to a road that was slowly moving below him and accelerated to bypassed another one. This was a dangerous game he was playing, jumping from one road to another. One wrong movement and he'd end up with more than a broken bone. He tried no to think of falling into the blackness below.

"Hey!" Yusei shouted to the rider who was driving above him. He had caught up with him from below. "Hey! Jump down here!"

The call finally earned Yusei the rider's attention. He flicked his head toward him but made no move to comply.

"You do as I say unless you want to crash!" he shouted again. He didn't know if the rider could hear him amidst the howling wind and roaring engines, but he persisted. "I'll divert their attention!"

Finally, the rider did as he was told. He made a sudden lean to his left and breached past the broken roadside barrier with his blade wing. Yusei ducked his head on instinct to avoid the shards of metal.

"Crazy as ever, I see," he said as the rider landed heavily before him.

The rider, finally on level with him now, slowed down a bit to let Yusei ride alongside him. He tapped his helmet and finally, it opened to reveal his face.

The same hazel eyes. The same brown hair. The same tight mouth and calculating look.

He was indeed Osamu.

"Is the leader of Satellite coming personally to greet me?" the hazel-eyed rider said as he squinted at Yusei.

Yusei allowed himself a smile. Of course he wouldn't trust him. Not after what had happened in the past. "I'm no part of any gangs."

"Not since _the _Enforcers?" Osamu gave a faint snort. "Whether you're too damn loyal or digging your own grave."

Something in those deep hazel eyes told Yusei that he was half-joking. The sarcasm and the cold tone counted. Yusei was more surprised that Osamu could hear his words clearly. His Duel Runner was rumbling a vicious sound that could wake even a dead man from his grave.

Osamu opened his mouth to say something. The sounds of the SS guards nearing them and Runners jumping down from the road above made him reconsider, though. He risked a glance to his back before he looked back at Yusei with narrowed eyes. "How do I know you're not with them?"

Yusei didn't bother to reply with words. Instead, he made a 180 turn with one feet that was lightly planted on the solid ground, then rushed to face the incoming SS guards head-on.

Some of the guards were surprised by his move that they quickly maneuvered to one side, an instinctive move any riders would have made to avoid a crash. Yusei charged in, accelerated, then zig-zagged past the last three riders. He sped up and jumped down to another road that was moving below them, and when he heard terrified screams from behind, he knew that he had succeeded in knocking a few off balance. Two distant explosions far below confirmed that there were unlucky souls who had slipped off the road.

It was too soon to celebrate though. As he tried to catch up with Osamu, who was several levels above him, he could hear more Runners closing in from a distance. Reinforcements. Yusei gritted his teeth. Bad news.

Osamu had yet again made a sudden turn and jumped right _onto _one of his pursuers, causing the unfortunate man to lose his balance and struck a separator on his right. Yusei winced at his action but managed to hold back a curse. Yeah, this was definitely Osamu all right.

Osamu's aggression made the remaining pursuers slow down—they were trying to buy time by creating some distance, waiting for more of their friends to arrive. Both Osamu and Yusei used that chance to regroup at a roundabout interchange ahead of them.

"You're crazy," Osamu said when they were near enough.

"That sounds wrong coming from you."

A knowing grin was spreading over his face, and it infected Yusei nontheless. "Why miss the chance to have fun? Some prophets said that we live only once."

"Wise words," Yusei agreed. "But I would very much like to keep my head intact, thank you."

Osamu made a face that said, 'You're a sloth,' to which Yusei laughed at.

Their bantering was interrupted by beam shots from _above_. They looked up and Yusei could hear Osamu curse under his breath.

A helicopter was hovering above them, the SS insignia glowing dimly in the black sky. The rotor beating an eerie sound that was similar to a hundred birds flapping their wings, the rhythm steady and feral.

Great. As if more pursuers on _bikes _weren't enough.

"Damn it, Osamu, what the hell did you do?" Yusei loudly groaned. "Cut it," he quickly said before Osamu could reply. The lines were slowing down now, and if they stopped moving altogether, they would be pinched like limping rats in a box. "Explanation has to wait. That bridge over there. We'll jump over it. I know a way out. Can you manage 270?"

"The gap's huge. We'll go at 290."

"Two-ninety," Yusei nodded.

They accelerated. Their Runners were running on top speed, and by the sounds their engines were emitting and the slowly moving line ahead of them, they had only one chance before the line was too high for them to climb over. Andrenaline was taking over Yusei now. No room for error, he thought to himself. If they couldn't fly over the gap, they'd be dead for sure. No brake; no hesitation.

The line had begun to slope upward. It was moving up faster than Yusei'd thought, and by the time they'd seen the end of it, it was already standing at 40 degree. The ascend was slowing down now, but Yusei knew that if they didn't reach the end in seconds, they were going to fall backward.

Just before they could get to the end of the road, the road trembled. The sudden interruption sent the two of them almost flailing.

Damn. Did the SS forcibly intrude the system operating these highways?

It trembled again, and though it was still ascending, Yusei and Osamu had already lost speed. Panicking, Yusei desperately sought of a road—any—that was close enough for them to jump onto, and found one to their left. He wasn't sure if they were going to make it: the distance was one thing, the position they were in was another. But that was the only option at hand.

"To your left!" Yusei roared.

Osamu moved without pausing, steering his bike to fight off gravity, and lunged. Yusei followed suit.

His brain was barely processing anything as his world slowed in motion. He was flying in the air; Osamu was some meters ahead of him; the helicopter above them was shooting beams of light. Then it occurred to him that Osamu's Runner was bigger—_heavier_—than his.

Osamu was descending even before his front wheel could reach the edge of the road. Yusei cried out a single word; a single action that could possibly save him from falling:

"_Jump_!"


	6. Echo - Chapter 3

***~ Echo ~***

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Starring: Aki I.

Genre: Romance / Drama / Humor

Rating: T

Time Setting: Tag Force 5

Story by: Lushard

Type: Multi-chapter

* * *

Aki was sure she had gotten the hang of being a waitress after a week had passed. She had adapted quite well to the job, learned how to walk like a lady and how to stop spilling tea and coffee when in a hurry. And yes, she had also learned how to smile—not just for show or politeness, but how to put a genuine one on her lips at all times. Jeannine had taught her that people were not fools, and that she, was not a doll whose job was to have a dry smile frozen on her lips.

"Put a real smile and behave like a lady," the cafe owner had said upon her second day of working. "You don't want to work like you're a smiling slave, do you? Then have a reason to plaster that smile on."

Maybe she had not found a real reason to smile, but to tell truth, she had found true enjoyment in working. Sure, it was exhausting, but this was a new world for her to explore. She had met so many people in just a week, had learned how to do things she'd considered simple and easy (like, walking straight with a handful of glasses or plates), and had made new friends. The cafe itself was still small, but looking at how business went, Jeannine had to consider hiring more hands soon.

There were six people working at the cafe plus two chefs and a two more guys back at the kitchen. Jack, due to his clumsiness, had been put in charge of cleaning the area when they were not having many customers. Osamu had been made a waiter, just like her, and there were also two other girls, Shoko and Yuki, who were seniors in that area. A guy named Simon, a foreigner by his looks, was the muscle of this bustling place. He was an easy-going guy whose job was to make sure that everything was in its place and there was not a single dust even in the darkest corner. Mainly put it, he was Jack's supervisor.

The waiters, on the other hand, were under direct supervision of Jeannine herself. And since Osamu was the only male waiter around, Jeannine was eager to 'shape him up' in order to attract more people of the opposite gender.

"A haircut?" Osamu asked. His tone and voice implied his confusion and irritation, but he was doing a fine job suppressing them.

Jeannine made a swing with her hand, the movement dramatic as always. She was all blazing red from hair to toe today. "You heard me, _amore mio_. You're getting a haircut. And since I'm currently not so busy, you will have the honor of being tended by the ever gracious me."

Aki, who was working with a napkin and a set of glasses on the other side of the bar, tried to hide a smile. Beside her, Shoko and Yuki exchanged a knowing grin. Everyone knew Jeannine was only trying to cut the expenses of hiring a hair stylist or sending him to a nearby barber. The eccentric woman was all profits and loses.

"We're going to open in an hour, so I expect you to be swift," she continued mercilessly.

"Pardon me, Miss—Jeannine," Osamu said. "I don't mean to be rude, but I just had a haircut two weeks ago. I think my hair has not grown long enough—"

"Tsk, boys these days," she cut him off with thinning patience. "It's not about length, boy. It's about style! Look at your heavy-assed friend." She was referring to Jack, Aki knew. "That clumsy giant may not be adept with his hands, but at least he was fashion conscious! While, you, on the other hand—" she pointed a manicured finger straight at Osamu's flinching face—"are a such a fashion klutz that I'm sure a ten year old would mistake you for a street punk."

By now, Shoko and Yuki were having a hard time controlling their laughter they ended up giggling with hands clasped on mouths. Aki was unsure whether she should join the girls or send a sympathetic glance at Osamu. Jeannine had a point though. Many points.

A sound of metal clattering in the background echoed through the cafe. Jeannine scowled. "I'll be sure to ask Simon to drill that blond until death," she muttered to herself. "Okay, girls." She turned to the waitresses and clapped her hands thrice above her head. "Listen up. Until we get more guys, I want you to keep an eye on this gentleman here. He is not allowed to dress so pathetically when he's off his uniform. Got that?"

The three of them chorused their 'Yes', and Jeannine was back to his staring contest with Osamu again. She lifted an eyebrow. "You are going to the nearest plaza to buy decent clothes after your shift today—I will lend you some cash, but you know you're expected to work longer this week. And now," she paused to grab the hem of his sleeve, "you're coming with me."

She was practically dragging Osamu back to the office, her high heeled pumps making a steady clicking sound on the wooden floor. Osamu's stagger was reluctant and pained. Once they had left the room, Shoko, the blue-haired one, laughed openly.

"Oh gods, that was pretty cruel of Jeannine," she said between her laughter. "But it was so hilarious to see the look on his face!"

"Adorable little puppy isn't he," added Yuki as she continued to work on the plates. Her hands were moving nimbly, wiping them clean with a white napkin and arranging them in place. "The Mistress is going a bit too far though. I personally think she should put Atlas on the front desk. He'll be a great attraction for the ladies."

"True. Now if only he could move without breaking something." Shoko turned to look at Aki. "Hey, you're friends with those two, right?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

A sly smile was spreading over Shoko's face. "Are those two single?"

Aki nearly dropped the glass she was holding. She blinked back at the older girl. "Umm... I think so."

"You think so? What, are you a distant acquaintance of theirs or something? Have you ever seen them dating with other girls?"

Aki tried to focus her mind into the question but found it a bit hard to concentrate. She thought for some seconds, wracking her memory for any answers. A certain blonde woman and a photographer with thick glasses came to her mind. "I have not, actually. But both of them have close friends."

Shoko seemed to consider her words as she worked absent-mindedly with her own set of plates. "Hmm... Have you seen them engaging in lovers' activities or the likes with these close friends of theirs?"

"No!" Aki quickly said, louder than she'd intended. Gods, what was she? A spy? How the hell would she supposed to know if Osamu or Jack was snuggling in a corner making out with girls?

Yuki, having done with her chores, laughed and said, "Cool it down. That's just how she is." She winked at Shoko. "Always prying into other people's love lives."

"Hey, I'm not prying! I'm weighing my bets!"

Yuki rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say."

"By the way," Shoko said to Aki, "do you know their types? What kind of girls are they seeking?"

All right, now this was already too much. Aki shut her eyes and shook her head furiously.

Shoko, seemingly oblivious to her frustration, went on. "Or have you ever heard them talking about girls? Maybe you've seen them—"

"That's enough, Shoko," Yuki gently cut her friend in. "Have some sympathy for the girl." She nudged Aki lightly with her elbow.

Finally, the rain of questions stopped. Aki was refusing to look at the blue-haired girl, positive that her face was redder than she would like it to be. She could, though, sensed her raising her eyebrows behind her back. "What's so stressful about this anyway? I was just asking nicely. How old are you again, Izayoi?"

"Shoko..."

"I take it she hasn't even kissed a boy before," she ventured on. "Someone is raised in a pretty good household, it seems." The sarcasm was leaking like poisonous gas now. Or maybe she was just teasing her, but Aki couldn't tell. Either way, this did not feel pleasant at all.

_"Weren't you expecting this?"_ A little voice in her head inquired. It was the same voice that had pinned her against the darkness not a long while ago. The same voice that had accused her of being different; of being so hopeful. _"Their rejection is inevitable."_

Calm down, she told herself. She had managed to come this far. She couldn't let a silly morning turn her working place into hell just because of some stupid fight, could she? Calm. Down.

Thankfully, before Shoko could manage to harass her further, Yuki was quick to pour water to the flame. "Okay, we're just thirty minutes from opening," she said, with a finality in her tone. "Shoko, you might want to refill the coffee and help the chefs back there. And Aki, you can help me with these plates."

Grateful, Aki sent Yuki a little smile, to which the chestnut-haired girl replied with a smile of her own. Shoko shrugged, then went into the back room through a 'staff-only' marked door. Aki could hear her muttering 'Blond, brown, blond, brown' as she walked away.

"Sorry about that," Yuki said when the door had been closed. They were the only people in the longue now. The only sounds in the room was the soft purring of the air conditioners and soft clinking of plates and cups being arranged together. "Shoko is not a bad person. She tends to say out loud whatever's on her mind and that's her charm, if not her biggest flaw. Trust me, she doesn't mean anything bad."

Aki took a long breath, trying to cleanse her mind from a vivid imagination that she shouldn't be dreaming of imagining. The memories from her past that had been haunting her for ages were trying to break the barricade she'd built to block them. "I know," she sighed. "It's just... I don't know…"

Yuki's expression turned apologetic. "You're not used of having this kind of talk, are you?" At Aki's muteness, she chuckled. "It's fine, you know. You don't need to worry about it too much. It's not so strange." She paused to give it a second thought and amended. "Well, maybe it is a little bit strange, but people have preferences, I guess."

She tried to smile at Yuki's consoling words and only succeeded partially. Her smile was bitter, and there was this nagging feeling of doubt in her chest. She was about to thank Yuki for her interference when the bells on the front door rang. Someone had just entered the café. Aki quickly turned to face the cabinet storing all the utensils to shake the bitter feelings off her mind and face. The last thing she wanted was getting scolded by Jeannine for treating customers like mourners.

"Oh, welcome!" Yuki whirled to greet the first customer of the day. "I'm sorry but we're still ten minutes from opening—"

At the abrupt pause in mid-sentence, Aki glanced over her shoulder and spotted her senior standing statue-like, her face ghostly pale. "Yuki?" she hissed.

She didn't move nor blink.

Then, a voice Aki recognized said, "I heard that Aki Izayoi is working here. I come to visit."

Aki turned to see a familiar figure standing at the doorway. At the sight of a raven-haired woman whose face was all over the media, she gasped. "Misty-san?"

The supermodel's beautiful Asian face lightened with a smile.

* * *

xx - 5D's - xx

* * *

"So that's the story?"

Aki nodded, still trying to ignore curious eyes that were constantly glancing at them.

They were in one of the guest rooms Jeannine had prepared for meetings. After learning that she was a friend of someone so famous, the owner had gladly let her off her shift for an hour (without charge), perhaps thinking that she might be an asset in drawing Misty into being a regular customer. The lady sure never missed a chance to do business.

Misty was sipping on her coffee, her whole demeanor calm and elegant, charming yet mysterious. Jeannine had purposively left the door open so that people in the longue might see who were inside; an advertisement, a blatant show. Misty had not objected, perhaps already used at the notion of being an icon.

"So you only work part time while the guys are forced to work every day?" she asked. "Satou I can believe. But I can't imagine how Atlas would do."

Aki smiled. "Actually, he's adapting faster than I thought. His supervisor is still training him with metal cups and plates, but he's making progress." Which meant he didn't break as many plates as he had in the first three days of working. Note the 'as many'.

"I have only met him several times when he was still King. Even in those moments I can still remember how many cups of tea he spilled."

"I can picture that." Even in the garage, Jack had never been trusted by Bruno and Yusei to work on an engine on his own. He was adept at tuning his own Runner—every Rider was expected to be able to at least attend to his own Runner, of course—but when it came into other machinery and new inventions, he was totally clueless. How he managed to tune and fix his own Runner and not a broken refrigerator was a puzzle to everyone.

Misty chuckled. "I don't mean to be rude, but he's definitely someone impossible to forget in so many ways."

"Well, what about you, then?" Aki asked. "Are you on a day off?"

Crossing her long legs, Misty leaned back in his comfy chair and nodded, looking both tired and relieved. The fitting white dress she was wearing may looked casual on a mannequin, but on her, Aki suspected that even the cheapest of clothes would look like a branded product. She could wear rags and still looked like a… well, a supermodel.

"Yes," she breathed. "I've just arrived from London two days ago. My manager requested that I personally take my time here in my homeland for a week. He said that I'd need the rest for the upcoming season."

After the Arcadia incident, the two had cleared the misunderstanding between them and forged a friendship. Misty had once been led to believe that Aki was the person responsible for her brother's death. She had pursued her relentlessly as a Dark Signer then, seeking revenge. But after they had both learned that Divine was the true puppeteer behind the curtains, they had reconciled.

Misty, being an international supermodel whose appearance was a constant pulse in almost every media, was always moving from one country to another. They maintained communication via post cards and e-mails, and that was also how the model had found out the location of the café. Aki had told her the brief story of how she'd come into working as a waitress, but had never expected for Misty to come on her own.

"Okay, enough about me." She sat up straighter and smiled slyly at her. "I came not to be interviewed; how are you doing?"

Aki laughed a bit, the sound hollow and humorless. "I was doing just fine, actually."

Misty seemed to have noted her use of past tense. She lifted her eyebrows. "But…?"

Aki repressed a sigh. "It's just…. too confusing sometimes. I wish I could simply blend in, but it's harder than I thought. Just when I thought that I'd done well, something shifted and I'm crawling in the dark again. School wasn't this hard. I mean, I wasn't supposed to do things other than learning and applying there… But working is just very new to me. The responsibility is real, and the pressure is more intense."

Misty nodded slowly, taking it all in. "I understand," she quietly said. "I may not have shared your experience of having lived in the underground world, but I know how it feels to enter a world entirely new to you."

"How did you face it then?" If Misty was talking about her career as a model, then she wanted to know how had she managed to survive.

"I simply tried my best," she replied with a nonchalant shrug. "I tried to learn from my mistakes and cast a blind eye at the people who were sneering at me. You can't let everyone's comment bring you down, and as a newcomer back then, I was forced to swallow every bitter word in order to shape myself. I took what I could as a review, and discarded the sentiment. It paid off."

That simple? Surely not. "But these are all very stressful to me. How did you face the people who were looking down on you without being frustrated?"

"I did not say that I wasn't frustrated," Misty contradicted with a smile. "I just said that I tried my best to carry on without stopping in my tracks. If I may know," she continued, "what is the matter that is troubling you? Have you gotten into a fight with someone?"

And Aki started talking. She told her how she had let her emotions got the best of her, how she had been consoled by Osamu, and how she had once again felt pressed by Shoko's questions. She was shaking her head when she was explaining the event that took place this morning. "It wasn't the questions," she was saying. "It was the thought of being different. I realize that I am different, that I am not used to so many things other girls around my age are doing, that I am—" She exhaled and let a crooked smile bloom on her lips, letting the rest of her sentence be swallowed by it. "Look. Now I'm being silly, aren't I?"

Misty was silent. Then, she carefully said, "You're not silly, Aki. You're just different, and that's not a bad thing."

'Not a bad thing, how?' she was about to blurt out.

"Listen to me. You and I share something in common, and that is the experience of losing someone we held dear." The look on Misty's face was so gentle, but her eyes were gleaming in a nostalgic thought: beneath the coolness of those dark orbs, there was a scar that would never heal. "It takes time for people who have experienced loss to be able to open up to love again. I don't know about you but I was scared. After I found out that I have lost my brother forever, I was terrified of people. I distanced myself from any forms of attachment; I was too afraid that if something happened to them again, I would never be able to take it.

"But then as time went on, I realized that shutting myself from love is a mistake. There are people who care about me. Maybe they don't say it out loud, maybe they don't even realize it, but the moment I discovered that I have supporters and friends to lean on, I felt stronger."

People to lean on… She had them. Her family, Yusei, the rest of the 5D's team… How come she hadn't realized it? Why did she have to be so focused on her own grief and fear that she totally missed it?

Misty's smile widened a bit as her eyes crinkled. "I can tell that you're afraid of opening up. You believe that you are different and that people see you as an alien, but that should not shut you down from the world. There are so many beautiful things in this world, and you should not be ashamed of being different. Isn't the flower that blooms amidst the others of another color the one that is most attractive?"

Maybe it was the look on Aki's face, or maybe it was her silence, but whichever the cause was, Misty started to giggle. Aki looked at her, confused. Misty said, "And you really should worry less about being clueless about things your friend said."

Aki pouted. "Being clueless about things normal girls are supposed to know and actively gossip, you mean?"

Her giggling turned into full laughter as she shrank back into her seat. Aki could really see why this woman was a supermodel. Even when laughing out loud, she was an attractive figure to watch. "Oh sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to—" she paused to compose herself with one intake of breath, "—mock you or anything. It's just… Your expression is so adorable!"

"Misty-san!"

She was visibly trying to hold back her laughter from exploding again. "That's what I mean! Oh, Aki, are you sure you're having a hard time getting along with your colleagues? I have an advice: just pout when they say bad things to you. I'm sure they will kneel and turn into fans immediately."

"You are making fun of me," Aki darkly muttered.

Misty waved a hand in apology. "Sorry, but I meant it."

Before she could continue on elaborating her point, Osamu barged in through the opened door with a tray of cakes.

"Excuse me, ladies," he said with a small bow. "Jeannine, the owner of this place, has asked me to bring you these."

"Oh, Satou!" Misty said in delight. Her face fell a second after. Her voice flattened with disbelief. "Oh my. What have they done to you?"

Osamu tried not to show his irritation and set the tray on the table. Misty was staring with her mouth slightly open while Aki was trying hard not to copy the look on the supermodel's face. Osamu was… not Osamu. His hair had been cut short in layers, with a big portion of his bangs swept to one side, and it seemed that Jeannine had also managed to highlight his hair with rich red. In his waiter's uniform, there was no trace of the old Osamu she'd used to know.

"A question if you may, Miss," Osamu said to Misty. The woman eyed him with wide eyes, still hadn't recovered from her state of shock, it seemed. He was standing a little bit too straight, trying his best to be casual and failed at it miserably. "How do I remove this paint off my hair?"

"Pardon?"

"How. Do. I. Get. My. Hair. Color. Back?"

Aki and Misty exchanged a blank look, then looked up at the stiff waiter again, unblinking. Osamu narrowed his eyes. "For Ra's sake," he said through gritted teeth, "I'm willing to work an extra month to wash this—whatever this is—out of my hair. I feel as if my hair has been _glued_."

At that, the two of them burst into laughter.


	7. Bond - Chapter 2

***~ Bond ~***

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Starring: Yusei F.

Genre: Action-Adventure / Friendship

Rating: K+

Time Setting: Tag Force 4

Prompted by: Yami E

Type: Multichapter

* * *

"Jump!"

Osamu's Runner was sinking in the air, the gravity proving to be a much larger force than both of them had anticipated. The rider acted a split second after the head of his Runner had sunk just a centimeter below the edge of the lane. He pushed his body up with with a kick.

Yusei's heart almost stopped the moment he swished past him. His hand shot out on his own and managed to grab Osamu's right arm. He used all that was within him to swing Osamu forward in a wild movement, then all sense of balance was lost when his front wheel hit the solid road. His Runner was jolted from the impact. He skidded, swirled, then came into a stop, his wheels making a screeching sound.

That was very close. Were he to lose his balance there, he would have surely been thrown off by gravity. Now, where was Osamu—

"They're down there!" Yusei heard one of their chasers shouted from the lane above.

Panic rose within him. His eyes did a quick scan until they settled on an unmoving figure lying at the edge of the road. _No_. Yusei spared no time to rush to his side; the lane was moving again, and if he missed the timing this time, they might be overthrown for sure. With a kick, he forced his Duel Runner to move yet again. (He noticed that his Runner was emitting a strange sound, though. Faint it may be, but he thought that maybe he had damaged the gears with the violent landing. A thorough check-up and some tuning would be required after this was all over).

"Hey, get up!" Yusei hissed to Osamu.

His helmet was cracked; Yusei could see the side of Osamu's head that was bleeding, and he was trying to get up to his feet with one hand pressed on his side. Osamu coughed and managed a small nod at Yusei to tell him that he, at least, was capable of moving on his own.

The sounds of Duel Runners gathering above them and the deafening rhythm of the copter's blades pushed them to move faster. Yusei helped him stand on his feet. "Talk to you later. Now saddle up."

Osamu did as he was told. He seated himself on Yusei Go's passenger seat. His movements were slow and rigid that confirmed Yusei of at least one broken rib. Once steady, he took off.

The voices of shouting SS guards were a distant hum in a mere minute of riding. They must have had trouble finding their way to chase after them with the lanes that were still constantly moving. Thankfully, the helicopter had not persisted on tailing them. Yusei didn't decrease his speed though.

He took a circling pathway to confuse their radars, and once he was sure that he had escaped their range of tracking, he took one of the many unused tunnels that he had used to travel to the Rim months ago. Going back into Satellite would be like waltzing into a lion's lair. He needed to get them into some place that was outside of their boundaries; he needed to get them into a place that wasn't entirely a part of Satellite, yet not that out of reach should he needed anything from his hideout.

Only one place came to his mind. It was located near the shore, where tunnels and underground passages were scattered like cobwebs. It wouldn't be a grand place to stay, but its many escape routes and distance were worth the shot. Now he could only hope the owner of that place wouldn't shoo them away at first sight.

He probably would. No, he would _definitely _forbid them entry. It would all depend on Yusei's skills to negotiate then.

Getting frustrated wouldn't help, he mentally slapped himself. He was with a wounded man; there was no way that he would let that person drive them home.

When the cold wind had ceased his anxiety, Yusei looked past his shoulder to the mute luggage behind him. "You all right?"

Osamu's breathing was heavy and labored. He muttered something under his breath, and in the midst of the Runner's purring engine and shrieking wind, whatever reply he'd choked out was something incoherent to Yusei's ears.

"What?"

Yusei sensed Osamu shaking his head. This time, he spoke louder. "Damn fine." His voice was rough. Begrudging. "Where are we heading?"

"Away from the main sector and your chasers," he replied. The tunnel had broadened and branched. Yusei steered his Runner to the right, and they hiked until they were back aboveground. Cooler wind that smelled of sea salt quickly welcome them.

"Gah!" He heard Osamu's repressed cry of pain when Yusei Go bumped on a broken pipe.

"So much for a 'fine'…"

"Shut up," Osamu said weakly. "You have a destination in mind. Or have you not?"

"I do. You won't like the place," Yusei half-heartedly confessed, "but it's our best bet since we can't go back into the town."

Yusei navigated through the secluded sector of both dirt and asphalt roads, taking a now a mute Osamu into a region of the city that was closest to the shoreline. Dim lights began to take form; shapeless, blurry orbs of flickering light in a distance. He rode into an empty street that was a patchwork of cables, broken pipelines, rags and piles of junk. The scent of gasoline, rusty metal and the sea were attacking his nostrils, making his stomach quench and his mouth bitter. How could some people manage to get used to this place would always remain a mystery to him.

"Wake up," he said to Osamu when he'd made a stop. Yusei parked his Runner before a two-stories building that looked like a ready-to-be-demolished apartment. The front doors, although still stood, served as nothing but a metal curtain to whoever was sane enough to live inside the ruin. The windows were broken; the dull gray paint made the building look all the way more miserable.

Osamu produced a grunting sound of protest, shifted in his seat, then slowly swung his leg to dismount Yusei Go. Yusei killed the engine, and suddenly all there was in there was an eerie silence. But Yusei knew better. The owner of this place must have been alerted by the sound of his Runner, and now, he must be watching them from one of those black windows above their heads, with a weapon in hand, no doubt.

Yusei dismounted his Runner and took off his helmet. He looked at Osamu with narrowed eyes. Osamu was clutching to his side, his whole posture rigid, his face a scrunched mask, looking pale and exhausted. "Can you walk?" he asked.

"No, you have to carry me bridal-style."

Yusei shrugged. "As long as you're fine with that."

Osamu rolled his eyes. "Still a dry bone, I see. I was joking."

They were interrupted by a loud noise from the apartment. Someone was racing down the stairs without bothering to be stealthy about it. The doors burst open—so hard that one plank fell off the hinges—revealing a furious Crow Hogan who only had a pair of trousers and a worn-out sleeveless shirt on his body. He strode angrily to them.

Osamu's eyes widened at the sight of the marked duelist, but before he could manage to utter any greetings, Crow punched him in the face, sending Osamu staggering backward a few steps. Crow's eyes were blazing, and he took another step, aiming for a kick this time.

Yusei hurriedly seized the shorter man's arm. "Crow, stop it. Listen to me first—" he tried to calm his friend.

"Shut up!" Crow hollered. His voice was shaking with rage. He pointed his forefinger at the kneeling Osamu, whose nose had started to bleed now. His glare though was directed at Yusei. "How dare you bring this bastard at my doorstep?! Are you trying to mock me?!"

Even though the sector was small and almost devoid of people, the loudness of Crow's voice made Yusei fear the worst; he could only hope no patrolling SS guard was nearby. Crow shoved off Yusei's hold of his arm. Yusei quickly stood between him and Osamu to anticipate any incoming hostilities from the spiky-haired duelist. "Listen," Yusei said, "I know you're still angry over what happened in the past, but—"

"Then get out of my way!" Crow said, nearly screaming now. "This is my place now! Fuck off!"

Osamu had gotten up on his feet with some difficulties. The damage he'd taken must have been a blow to his already weakened state. He spat blood to the ground but said nothing.

"Look, Crow, you have every reason to drive us away, but please at least listen to me first."

Crow's face was still contorted in anger, but his breathing slowed a bit. Yusei took this opportunity to explain things to his old friend.

Osamu was silent, even when Yusei had come into the part where he'd found him being chased by the SS. After he was finished, Yusei stole a glance at Osamu and said, "I'm expecting him to explain his case too, but you can see that the guy's injured."

"Huh. So you're expecting me to house a criminal who is being sought by dozens of armed men." Crow snorted in disgust. "Sorry but my place's not a clinic. Go somewhere else."

"If I'd known a clinic that's out the perimeter and is a safe place for us both, then I would have gone there," Yusei said a-matter-of-factly.

Crow scowled, definitely not pleased with the idea of taking Osamu in, even for a few minutes. But with one final snort, he took a step back to allow them entry. "Tch. Fine. Just remember that I live with some kids here. Make a trouble, and I'll dump you guys into the sea." He made his way back into the building, his eyes were still refusing to meet Osamu's. "Get your Runner inside," he said to Yusei. "Man... This is gonna be one hell of a night."

* * *

xx - 5D's - xx

* * *

The apartment was more spacious on the inside than Yusei had thought. In the poorly lit room, Yusei could see piles of scrapped materials and metal junks Crow had collected. The Blackbird, Crow's black Runner, was parked in a corner with a sheet covering it.

They had been led by Crow to a room with a dusty bed on the second floor—which Yusei suspected was a vacant room the marked duelist had always kept ready in case he got more children in his care. The only child who'd been woken up from their fight was a girl named Hikari. She was a quiet girl with bright auburn hair who had simply stared at them mutely upon their entry. Crow had ordered her to go back to bed—to which she refused. Now, Yusei was glad she was around. The girl may look petite in stature and fragile in nature, but she really knew how to patch a wound. She was now working on Osamu's shoulder with a wet cloth and a bandage.

Crow, who was only watching Hikari and Yusei cleaning and patching up Osamu's wounds, stood up from the old sofa he'd occupied. "I want you to get out as soon as possible after this," he stated.

Yusei sighed. "Crow... Could you at least spare him some time to recover?"

Crow shook his head stiffly. "He brings trouble wherever he goes. The briefer he stays, the better."

Yusei noticed that Osamu had been nothing but a mute fugitive after he'd been punched down by Crow. The look on his face gave nothing away, his expression as blank as a wall, and his sharp tongue had been all but tied. Yusei, having finally done with his part, stood up and said, "I don't know about you, Crow, but I want some explanation." He was staring down at Osamu while speaking, and so, noticing his slight change of expression. "Tell me why you were being chased by the SS."

Osamu's eyes were fixed on the floor, his brows knitted together. "I only tried to protect what's mine."

"They tried to snatch something from your pocket?"

"My CPU."

Crow clicked his tongue at this. "What could they possibly want from your CPU? A collection of sci-fi e-books?"

Hikari had finished her work. Osamu nodded his thanks to the leaving girl and tried to move his bandaged arm carefully. "I had something they'd been wanting for months. A virus."

Yusei stared hard at the chestnut haired man, confused. "What? You had a virus in your CPU and those guys wanted it?"

"Not exactly an active virus," he said. "More like a basic software to leak it into whichever system I bypass. I got my hands on it when I was travelling outside the Rim. They wanted it simply because of its undetectability."

"Hell, you're messing with us," Crow snapped. "There are no viruses that can't be detected!" Which was true. Once a virus got into an operable program, deception worked, and the user of the program could be fooled for a few days. But once it had spread and multiplied, there was no chance that it would stay undetected. Infection always worked subtly at first, but in the end, symptoms always followed.

"Actually there is. It's still a prototype, but I've seen it at work," said Osamu. "It's slightly different from those of resident viruses that contain a replication module. It does replicate itself, but it does not harm the program and it leaves no trail."

Yusei frowned. "You mean it's like a spyware?"

"In a sense, yes. But not exactly."

"What are its purposes then?" asked Yusei. He was more than intrigued now. In order to replicate itself, a virus must be permitted to execute code and attached to executable files. He'd encountered many kinds of viruses, but had never found one that could not be traced. Impossible to be removed, yes, but untraceable? That was bullshit. It there existed a virus that could be attached to a program and left no trails afterwards, he wasn't sure whether he should praise the inventor or despise his devious mind.

"Disabling programs, hacking, jamming transmissions... To simply put it: altering a Duel in mid-run."

Crow was laughing bitterly now, disbelief etched on his face. "Gods, there are so many viruses out there that could do the same thing! What's the deal with this one?"

"Because it leaves the jammed Duel program without any damage," put in Yusei. He had beginning to understand why this simple invention was highly feared and sought, and was still trying to make sense what would happen if such a thing fell into the wrong hands. "Look, if your Duel Disk is infected, what is normally expected afterwards?"

"Depends on what the virus spreader wants," Crow said with a shrug.

Yusei was the one who rolled his eyes this time. "True, but my point is: the Duelist would _notice_ it immediately after its activation. This one ensures that it won't happen. Which means that it could alter a Duel in such a subtle way that no one would notice." He looked back at Osamu. "Where did you get it from?"

"A distant acquaintance," he said, his tone flattening. Osamu grabbed his clothes and jacket to dress up. "That's not important anymore. I'm thankful for your help," he said to Yusei, then nodded to Crow, "yours too," before stalking off the room.

Yusei hurriedly ran after him. "You can't go anywhere in that condition."

"Why can't I?" Osamu dryly dismissed as he descended on the stairs.

"Osamu, if you want to take your Runner back then you must go through the tunnel leading to the City," he reasoned. "And you won't be able to that without a vehicle." Not to mention that he wasn't even equipped with a Duel Disk.

Crow, who was tailing them with lazy steps, said, "Geez, if he wants to go then let him go, Yusei. You know words can't stop him."

Once downstairs, Yusei ran ahead of Osamu and blocked his path to the door. "If you're planning to get your Runner back, then at least let me go with you," he firmly stated. "Going to the City all by yourself is suicide."

"It's not just about my Runner," Osamu snarled. He was about to say something but decided against it and shook his head instead. "Look. I don't need your pity, so get out of my way. My business is mine alone."

"So? What am I supposed to do then? Step aside and let you crawl your way to Neo Domino?"

The wounded duelist was scowling, but he kept his mouth firmly shut. Such was a sign when he was in a deep thought and could find no answers to his own stubbornness. Yusei had known him for years to predict what he was thinking just by having a quick look on his face.

They just stood there facing each other for some seconds, neither of them willing to back down. Crow was the one who broke the silence. "I seriously don't want to know what reasons you have for showing up here after leaving over a year ago," he said to Osamu. He took some steps encircling him, all the while having his eyes narrowed in loathing and suspicion. "Yusei's just too trusting, but there's no way in hell I'm gonna trust you. You're hiding something, aren't you? The virus and your Runner are just excuses; what are you up to this time?"

"Crow..."

"Shut up," he growled at Yusei. Again, he turned toward Osamu. "You may think you can fool us, but I know the truth."

The truth? "What are you talking about, Crow?"

Crow snorted a laugh. "Oh yeah... I forgot that you were not with Kiryu at that time, huh. This guy—" he jabbed a finger at Osamu who went stiff in apprehension—"was the reason why he got caught! He sold him away; he _betrayed _us!"


	8. Lies

_**A/N: **In response to anonymous reviewers (unsigned reviewers) - Please check my Profile Page for more info about Prompting / Challenging. You may Prompt / Challenge, so long as you are a Signed Member of Fanfiction dot net. _

_Please understand that I need to discuss things with you first before I can work on your Prompts / Challenges, and so, I will need to PM you. If you're an Unsigned Reviewer, I wouldn't be able to contact you so the Prompts or Challenges you have submitted may stray from your original idea(s). _

_I thank you for your understanding._

* * *

***~ Lies ~***

* * *

Starring: Misty L.

Genre: Romance / Angst

Rating: T

Time Setting: Tag Force 4 – 5

Challenged by: Hawking Owl

Type: One-shot

Challenge: Better Than I Know Myself – Adam Lambert

* * *

I heard your footsteps. I could recognize the rhythm almost right away.

I heard you call my name. I could find myself smiling in anticipation as I wait for you to come near.

You opened the door, asked if I needed anything.

_"Nothing."_

I didn't lie.

I wanted nothing but to be bathed in this warm feeling of familiarity, even for a minute.

You frowned at me. I smiled.

Was it wrong to wish for a brief moment of peace? Was it a sin to see my lost precious one in you? Was I fooling myself?

Maybe yes.

So I shut my eyes.

So I could clearly see him in you.

In the way that you smiled, in the way that you talked.

The mirage vanished sometimes, leaving only the shadows of my past that I know would haunt me forever.

At those times it had me thinking of you and only you: the person standing in front of me. No shadows of the dead blurring my vision of you.

_Who are you?_

You turned and asked what was wrong, perhaps it was not for the first time that you had caught me staring.

I laughed to drive the confusing feelings away, and it had you smiling too.

_You are not him_.

Everything was a blur from where I stood. There was a storm raging inside me; bottomless darkness beneath my feet. Everything that was within me... it was all a lie.

I had been lying to you all along.

I had been blinded by the darkness.

You would never be able to replace my most cherished. I knew that. Yet I selfishly indulge myself that you could become him.

Time proved me wrong.

I pulled you closer to me. I sensed your fastening heartbeat, heard your hitched breath.

_"Please."_

Just for a minute.

Time stopped in the silence that followed. My world consisted only of your warmth and steady heartbeat.

You had witnessed my death: my errors. I had not the luxury nor the time to ask if you would approve me calling you by name. But at that time, I let it slip from my lips.

A mere whisper.

A helpless call.

Your breathing slowed. Tentatively, you put your arms around me, the touch hesitant and light, like feather brushing my skin.

Would I be brave enough to part from you? To break the ties? To leave my darkness?

I stared up into those hazel eyes and saw my own reflection.

_I can finally see who you really are._

Sympathy and understanding gleamed in your eyes, their soft glow a comfort to my soul. And suddenly, the storm stilled.

I rose to my tiptoes, my hands finding their way to your shoulders. I could sense you going stiff; your heart jumping against your chest, your eyes searching mine.

I smiled and spilled out one truth:

_"A farewell."_

My departure to another country for you.

A decision to take a step towards the light for me.

This was a redemption. A simple wish to move on, away from the past which had corrupted my life beyond repair.

You relaxed as you breathed. I took your uncertainties in, let my smile broadened, and closed my eyes.

My lips touched the skin of your cold cheek—so close to your lips.

Spare me one last sin, for I have set my heart to carry on and embrace the light.

This would be my last lie to you.


	9. Petrichor - Chapter 1

***~ Petrichor ~***

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Starring: Aki I.

Genre: Angst / Action-Adventure

Rating: T

Time Setting: Tag Force 4

A Prequel to: Echo

Prompted by: Supertediousy

Type: Multichapter

* * *

It was now 00:02 in the morning.

Aki tore her gaze away from a massive clock on the wall, her eyes shifting focus to the rows of people that were forming a reluctant queue outside of the arena. The poorly lit underground coliseum was full today, and that was to be expected, since today was the day when the underground tournament was going to be held. Two female employees—who were scantily dressed—were busy checking people's tickets. Armed men stood close by, ready to throw troublemakers out of the room.

Standing behind a black curtain on an indoor balcony overlooking the entire place, Aki could see everything clearly: the white Duel Ring that stood in the middle of the vast area; the empty seats which were waiting eagerly to be occupied; an also a VIP room on the second floor that was reserved for rich gamblers.

For a moment, anger and resentment built up within her chest. Those ignorant fools. They were the kind of people who sat and enjoyed other people's struggle from thrones—people who looked at her kind with a sneer in their eyes. She'd met a group of gamblers who specifically enjoyed hunting psychic duelists some weeks ago. They were the rich who were willing to spend millions of yen to see whose 'gladiator'—or so a psychic duelist under their wings was called—was stronger.

She'd heard many things from these so-called gladiators. Some of the people who were protected by the Arcadia Movement from the world had been once gladiators, and the stories they brought were unpleasant; sickening, even. Their masters would not hesitate to use any form of torture to nurture their psychic abilities, and for that, a young girl who had escaped with her older sibling had ended up dead due to blood loss at Arcadia's doorstep. She had rushed to help, along with some of Divine's personal attendants, but they had been too late. Only the older brother had survived, and how she wished she hadn't listened to the boy's story of their captivity.

Aki loathed those mad men with passion. She'd secretly sworn, that were she to rise to the top and gain access to their manors, she would use all that was within her power to destroy each every one of them.

"It's almost time," a bulky man who stood close to Aki said. He was a big man with serious muscles whose appearance and accent signified his status as a foreigner; a foreigner she even doubted had an official ID card. The man checked his wristwatch and looked at her with narrowed eyes. "I don't know who you are, little miss, but once you step into the ring, you'll play by our rules."

The hooded cloak that Aki was wearing concealed her face almost completely from view, but the man seemed to acknowledge her silence as a 'yes'. He grunted as he lit a cigarette. "Your name will be called to draw, and if you lose twice, you're out," he explained. "Understand?"

Again she nodded her yes. She'd already known the rules, of course. Divine had briefed her personally.

Her mission was simple and clear: win, and make her powers known. She had done this before in another sector, and truth to be told, everything was awfully simple and easy once she'd known how to time the use of her psychic power. Control she may lack, but it was a child's play to work the timing of her attack toward perfection.

The big man picked up his vibrating cellphone and muttered something under his breath in a language Aki wasn't familiar with. Judging from his expression, he seemed to be spitting out some curse words. After he'd slipped the gadget back to his jeans, he said to Aki, "There's been a change of rules. You won't have to draw again. Everything has been set up. You will go against one of the duelists there when your name is called." He pointed the burning end of his cigarette at a balcony protruding from the high wall located across the room. The man shook his head. "Some rich guy must have requested this personally. Randomized turn  
is a rare thing down here."

Aki hid a smile. Of course, Divine must have pulled a string. Now it was up to her to bring his plan into motion.

The clock rang thrice, the sound booming and echoing throughout the area. People cheered, and the lights were out. Four beams of light struck the ring, and a flamboyant guy with a mic appeared from the biggest platform overlooking the area, looking pathetically overexcited to host the show. His amplified voice filled the place as he greeted the enthusiastic crowd.

"There is a little change in the system for this tournament," said the MC. "Participants' names shall be picked randomly before each round, and so, we won't need the block system anymore."

Murmurs could be heard spreading over the people like wild fire. This must be a new thing here. Tournaments often used block systems to ensure that duelists were fairly distributed—which meant smaller chance of having a very skilled duelist to go against another of equal strength in the get-go. Randomization would make all things possible. It would make things unpredictable. Wild, even.

Nothing was more cherished and valued than the essence of wildness in the underground world. An unpredictable duel was always something that was captivating to watch, everyone would agree, but down here, people expected more. These were the people who had witnessed and suffered more than what a person living in Neo Domino could ever imagine. Their lives hung by a thread, threatened each day by random factors that could snatch their loved ones or their own lives away; they were _the _downloaders, afterall. And so, they expected duels to also go like their lives: wild, harsh, blood-pumping; unpredictable.

Now such unpredictability was going to be in her favor tonight. Divine would make sure of it.

The largest screen in the room flashed to life, showing a list of names divided in two rows with a large '_VS_' standing between them. The MC swept a hand dramatically as he whirled around. "We will now pick two random names to start this tournament! Hold your breath, everybody, and pray that the goddess of fortune would pick the best duelists to ignite the fire tonight!"

The computer began to shuffle the names on both rows, and the room went quiet in anticipation. "A~nd... Stop!"

The screen stilled.

Two names froze on the top of both rows with a loud 'bang' from the speakers. _J the Shredder _and _Black Rose _were highlighted with red and yellow. People cried in excitement.

"Oh, oh, oh! It seems we will get a spectacular opening!" the MC beamed. "Would the two duelists please come down to the ring?"

The big man folded his massive arms and grumbled. "Some scary luck you have, being picked right at the start against J." At Aki's silence, he smiled wryly. "He's a popular guy around here. He's got some skills. Owns a tricky deck too."

"It doesn't matter," Aki said in a low voice as she turned around to leave for the ring. "His deck won't even scratch mine."

She could hear the big man laughing, the sound deep and heavy. "So you're not mute, after all."

She didn't bother to reply and proceeded to descend the staircase. She put on the white mask she'd been keeping for years and lowered her hood.

All right. This was her time.

_"Just do everything like usual and it will soon be over,"_ she remembered Divine's words just before she'd entered the place. Of course, it would soon be over: both this duel and their suffering. _"You will be our beacon of hope; our liberator. You will show the world just how special you and your brothers and sisters are. You will show them how wrong these ignorant people have been."_

Aki strode past the people who steered away from her. She climbed into the ring, which had this cage-like bars surrounding the white arena, a measure of 'protection' that would keep duelists locked inside. 'No participant would be allowed to back down in the middle of a duel' was a common rule in any underground tournaments.

A guard dressed in black let her get inside through the cage door. She heard a clicking sound; the cage mechanism seemed to be designed to lock the cage door automatically once the duelists were inside. Standing across the arena was a lanky guy with ragged jeans and vest. He looked about mid-twenties, but judging from the scars he had on his face, he'd been through the deepest part of Satellite and survived its harsh life.

"Wearing a cloak to hide your appearance ain't gonna make you look cooler," J taunted with a mocking sneer, his voice loud enough to be heard by the all the people. He turned toward the crowd and said, "Someone has a lack of confident here."

The people laughed. Aki ignored it; she'd learned that arrogant duelists were likely to get more confident if you kept silent, and the more confident they got, the more reckless they would be.

As she had expected, J took her silence as an inability to retort. "The silent type, are you?" He grinned as he activated his Duel Disk. Aki activated hers. "Well, _Black Rose_, let's see if your nickname is as fancy as your skills!"

The MC took his cue and said, "Uh-oh! It seems they're ready to tear each other apart!" He beamed. "Are you guys ready~?"

The crowd shouted their 'Yes' in a deafening shout, then, without missing a beat, the MC cried:

"Let the Duel begin!"

**_(Black Rose – 4000) vs. (J – 4000)_**

"I'll go first! Draw!" J announced as he drew his sixth card. "I summon a monster from my hand!"

(_XX-Saber Emmersblade 1300 / 800 / 3_) A large insect in armor showed up on the field. It swung its swords as it made its stand.

"I set up two cards face-down and end my turn."

**_Turn 2 (Black Rose – 4000) vs. (J – 4000)_**

Aki drew her sixth card silently and looked at her hand. J was displaying this crooked smile openly, a sign that he had something under his sleeve for whatever attack she may launch.

She would play it slow to see what kind of deck he was using then. "I summon Botanical Lion to my side."

(_Botanical Lion 1600 / 2000 / 4_) As the hybrid lion emerged to reality, Aki quickly activated its effect and said, "My monster's effect shall increase its original attack point for each Plant-Type monster I control, and so, its attack point is now made 1900." Of course, this would mean nothing. Divine had told her not to rush; fear and terror were instilled longer and deeper if carved slowly.

"Botanical Lion, attack his monster!"

The lion growled and jumped into action. It clawed at the helpless insect with ease, and the moment the piercing damage was dealt, J was forced to stagger backward. Everyone gasped in shock upon seeing this.

"Oooohh! What has just happened?" shouted the MC in disbelief. J was now kneeling, his bare arm bloodied as if it had been clawed, his expression was contorted in both fear and shock. "Did we see it correctly—J was _wounded_!"

The underground coliseum was thrown into chaos in mere seconds. Everyone was voicing their disbelief in raged shouts, clearly appalled by the effect of her psychic power. This must be the first time they had witnessed a psychic dueling, then.

Aki stood unflinching as she absorbed everything in. This was what she and Divine had intended from the start: for her gruesome powers to be shown through duels. She had done this several times before. She had heard the screams, seen the terror and hatred in people's eyes, and felt their intense dislike of her unnatural ways of dueling. There was nothing new about this; any sane people would react the same way to the display of her powers.

Yet the hollow in her heart kept gnawing open, threatening to swallow her whole.

A group of people raced to the cage, they were some sort of emergency medic team, it seemed. But the rules had backfired upon them, for the cage was programmed only to open once the duel held inside it had reached conclusion. The door wouldn't even budge. The MC turned to seek explanation from those who had orchestrated this tournament but found no answers beside a grim nod that told him to let the duel continue.

"Duelist J," he called, his voice shaking a little. "Are you able to stand up?"

With a heavy grunt, J struggled to stand on his feet. He was clutching his bleeding arm as he rose up. "Yeah... I can still stand." He raised his good hand to indicate that he was willing to go continue the duel. "You—" he fixed his attention on Aki, his eyebrows knitted in fury and pain, "—what have you done to me?!"

She said nothing. The cloak and mask ensured that no one saw the sting of guilt that she felt inside.

J mouthed a curse as he gathered his thoughts and emotions to resume the postponed phase. "Not even up to tell us what tricks you're hiding beneath that cloak? Hah. I wouldn't let you have your way!" He said. "Now that you've destroyed my monster, I can activate its effect to Special Summon one Level 4 or lower X-Saber monster from my deck!" A card was shuffled to the top of his deck, and he drew it. "I Special Summon X-Saber Galahad!"

(_X-Saber Galahad 1800 / 800 / 4_) This time, a warrior clad in golden armor showed up. The curved blade he was holding was pointed directly at Aki, perhaps sharing its master's burning rage and hatred. J didn't stop at this. "The piercing damage you've dealt allows me to activate my Trap: Damage Condenser!"

One of his traps flicked open, revealing a voltaic gate that sparked to life. "I took 600 damage from your attack, which means I can now Special Summon a monster from my deck whose Attack Point is equal or less to the damage. Come now, Palomuro!"

(_X-Saber Palomuro 200 / 300/ 1_) The newly summoned monster was small in size, its appearance resembling that of a strange reptile with silver and green scales. Looking at its star level and Attack Point, it must be a Tuner Monster. "I tune Galahad with Palomuro to summon a 5-star synchro monster: Saber Wayne!"

(_X-Saber Wayne 2100 / 400 / 5_)The heavily armed warrior appeared from the green circles with vicious roar.

Not bad. He had truly managed to absorb the damage and use it as a catalyst to synchro-summon. Aki set up two cards. "I end my turn."

**_Turn 3 (Black Rose – 4000) vs. (J – 3400)_**

"My turn," J announced through gritted teeth. He drew a card and didn't even glance twice at his hand to move to the next phase. "With Wayne's effect, I can summon one level four or lower Warrior monster from my hand—come forth, Airbellum!"

(_X-Saber Airbellum 1600 / 200 / 3_) The rogue emerged, and Aki quickly studied it. It was a Warrior-Type monster with a decent abilities, and if her hunches were right, this J was aiming for another synchro-summoning now that a new tuner had been called to the field.

"I'm not finished!" J said as he placed another card on his Duel Disk. "I summon another monster to my side: Saber Garsem!"

(_XX-Saber Garsem 1400 / 400 / 4_) The newcomer was an odd creature that resembled a goat. A goat clad in armor, to be precise. "I shall ask you once again," J said to Aki before he proceeded to take the next obvious step. "What have you done to me? That damage you dealt before was real... What kind of magic are you—"

"Not magic," she said, voice calm and low.

"Then what the hell are _you_?"

Aki allowed herself a half-smile. The mask concealed it, but there was no point of holding it back, wasn't there? After all, it was the very same question that had turned her life upside down, thrown her into the streets, made her groping in the dark. Only to find that there wasn't a light at the end of the journey. There had been no light in the tunnel, no doors, no hope. But experience had taught her better than to simply wander aimlessly or beg for a miracle.

She had crafted a new identity in an attempt to tear down the tunnel wall. An identity that may be attached to her soul; a name that she could hold on to.

Aki gestured at the large monitor behind her—where a name she and Divine had agreed on to submit into this tournament was shown on the screen: 'Black Rose.' J looked up and saw the letters on screen. He jeered, "A name that suits you, little witch. Yeah, just hide behind that mask of yours, and I'll be the one to tear it down to pieces! I will now tune Airbellum with Garsem!"

The rogue jumped to the air, closely followed by the goat-in-armor, and circles of green light began to appear around them. The crowd was cheering madly by the time the two monsters had merged into the light.

"Synchro Summon—Come and destroy these tentacles of evil! Shed your light, Urbellum!"

(_X-Saber Airbellum 2200 / 1300 / 7_) Emerging from the light was a tall warrior that was clad in thick armor and ragged crimson cape. He was wielding two swords which were glowing luminously in the dark underground arena.

J had summoned both Wayne and Urbellum in attacking position, which meant that he was not going to hold back any longer. Sure enough, J didn't waste any time ordering the two warriors to smash Botanical Lion to bits. "Now you're gonna pay for what you've done, freak!" he shouted. "Begone!"

X-Saber Wayne stomped heavily, hissing a breath as he moved a step, and raised his massive sword at the defenseless Botanical Lion. The sword swung down and met her lion.

Aki may have not been able to fully control her powers at will, but she had exercised caution: she knew how to use her psychic powers to defend herself, at least. Past experience had taught her how to always keep her guard up.

The piercing damage was done. Her monster shattered to pieces, but no real damage could harm her while she was shielded by her psychic barrier. The second attack was aimed directly at her, but the warrior's blades too were stopped an inch before they could touch her. Her Life Point decreased, but she noticed how this little stunt had simply pumped up people's boiling rage; they were screaming louder and louder, chanting curses of her downfall. J too had seen the futility of his attack on her person—and snarled.

These people were wishing for a payback, of course. A mere decrease of LP, it seemed, wasn't going to satisfy their bloodlust. Justice didn't work that way. They were wishing for her to suffer.

It was always the same, people's reaction. No matter where she went or how she dueled, everyone would always view her as a monster—as a witch needed to be put on a burning stake. She had despised it, wondered why she was cursed with a mark that seemed to always bring malice and torment. Until she realized that why's wouldn't stop the curse from haunting her. There was no need to ask questions anymore. She would no longer doubt or care. She knew who she was, and she would show the world that she was more than capable of rising atop the ashes.

"Running out of fancy cards?" J said. "Play nice and I'll be nice too, Black Rose. I set up one card and end my turn."

**_Turn 4 (Black Rose – 1400) vs. (J – 1800)_**

Her opponent was a lot more aggressive—in both his moves and words—now that he'd seen what her monsters could do to him. Perhaps her last attack had awakened an instinctive thought that the best defense was a good offense. Aki was sure that he would do anything in his power to win the duel should she let him another turn.

"My turn," she said, drawing a card. A quick glance at her hand and she knew that she could outwit J with what she had. "First, I shall activate my Spell Card: Mark of the Rose!"

A rose tattoo appeared on Saber Wayne's armor. The monster wriggled in fear, but it didn't stop the mark from spreading all over its body. "This card will let me borrow your monster for this turn. You see, I can play nice if I want to," she added with an amused touch to her voice.

J looked more than irritated than when he'd discovered what powers she had. Aki was sure he was running out of curse words by now.

"Surrender yourself, O' mighty warrior!"

Wayne tried to struggle one last time before he finally knelt down. The tattoo had enveloped him whole, and in the next second, he was warped to stand on Aki's side of the field. One necessary material gained. "Now come and do my bidding! I summon Twilight Rose Knight!"

(_Twilight Rose Knight 1000 / 1000 / 3_) A dark armored knight of a short stature appeared on the field. People were shouting louder upon its appearance, aware that the monster was a Tuner. But Aki did not have any intention to Synchro Summon just yet. "Twilight Rose Knight's special effect allows me to Special Summon one level 4 or lower Plant-Type monster from my hand." She paused to let the words sink into J, and said, "Come to think of it, my deck is not that different from yours, isn't it? The compositions are the same, and so is our style of dueling..."

"I'd rather die than to have my deck compared to that lowly deck of yours!" he hissed.

"So be it." With the Tuner's effect, Aki Special Summoned Lonefire Blossom. _(Lonefire Blossom 500 / 1400 / 3_) The strangely shaped plant grew until it was of the same size as the Rose Knight, and Aki traded the newly summoned plant to call upon:

"Revival Rose!"

_(Revival Rose 1300 / 1300 / 4_)The head of Lonefire Blossom bloomed and let out another plant—a red rose with thick petals. One last deal. Aki picked a card from her hand and activated it. "To complete this ritual, I activate a Quick-Play, Seed of Deception!" The spell would Special Summon one level 2 or lower Plant-Type monster from her hand, and this was what she had been waiting for: for all the materials to gather up. "I'll Special Summon a Tuner Monster with this Spell. Come to my aid, Spore."

_(Spore 400 / 800 / 1_) The fluffy ball of fur made its stand beside the other three with a bounce.

J was the type of duelist who would, in this kind of circumstances, be mocking her for summoning such a petty monster. But seeing how he only stood with one monster while she had two tuners and two normal monsters, he wisely kept his mouth shut. A good decision, especially when he was about to witness what Aki had planned on doing with all these monsters all along.

Circles of green light glowed as they surrounded the four monsters. "First, let me thank you for this mighty warrior here," she said as she waved a hand towards Saber Wayne. The circles of light were focused on the warrior and Spore, and once they had been enveloped by green light, they jumped into the air and merged. "I tune Spore with X-Saber Wayne..."

The circles of light flashed brightly, illuminating the arena with one white explosion. "O great hunter who dwells in the woods... Reveal yourself and let your whip rule over this arena. Come forth now! Synchro Summon! Splendid Rose!"

_(Splendid Rose 2200 / 2000 / 6_) The woman clad in green was the very embodiment of elegance. Even the maddening crowd took a breath at the sight of her. But this was not the end. "It's not over yet," Aki said as she ordered the reamaining Tuner to perform the last Synchro-Summon. Complying, the petite knight nodded and jumped, taking along the planted rose which was forced to depart from the ground. Green lights lit the place once again.

"Flames of darkness engulfs the entire world. Bloom amongst the decayed! Roar, Black Rose Dragon!"

_(Black Rose Dragon 2400 / 1800 / 7_) Blood-red petals fell from the dark gorge that hung over the arena. A vicious roar thundered through the place, the sound deafening, silencing everyone who had, a second ago, been shouting and screaming. Aki felt her pulse quicken at the sight of her dragon. It materialized from the gorge, its snake-like head moving in a graceful way as it slithered through the air and descended on the ground with a mighty flap of its wings. Yes, this was it. The dragon which had brought her both salvation and curse. The dragon which she despised with all of her being; the dragon which had given her the name and identity she'd desperately craved for.

This was _her _dragon.

And now that it was here, she would show the world what terror truly meant.


	10. Noumenal

***~ Noumenal ~***

* * *

Starring: Sherry L.

Genre: Humor / Romance

Rating: T

Time Setting: Tag Force 5

Directly Linked to: Echo

A Prequel to: Wish

Challenged by: King of Stories

Type: One-shot

* * *

"Who cut your hair?"

"My Mistress."

"Who dyed it?"

"The same person."

"Who forced you to do this?"

At that Osamu turned to fix her a glare. "Drop it, Sher. I'm not in the mood."

Sherry smiled, unapologetic, and arched her eyebrows in an exaggerated way to say, 'You're just begging to be teased.'

Osamu was about to mutter something in defense, but he decided against it, perhaps noticing the mischief that sparkled in her eyes. "Just get me what I need, okay?" he finally said with a sigh.

Poor guy. After spending—what, years?—of being clothed in only jeans, plain shirts and jackets, he was finally being dragged away from his comfort zone. Sherry couldn't really sympathize, though, for Osamu was, as far as she knew, a casual dresser who never even considered wearing colors other than red, gray or black. She had never been one for fancy clothes herself, but if she should be honest, even she would give Osamu a C minus for his daily wear. For Ra's sake, she was even sure that he would buy the _same model _of jacket of the same _color_ if it weren't for his friends' pestering.

Night had fallen, but the downtown was as busy as ever. They walked down the bustling streets; Sherry was practically dragging an unmotivated Osamu in every step they traced. When first asked, she had initially considered to refuse. But after seeing how lost he was in the streets, she'd chosen to lower her ego and change her mind. She owed him some debts anyway—and the last thing she wanted was to feel _indebted_.

She had opted to match his casual style with a simple jeans-plus-T-shirt outfit for this 'appropriate clothes-hunting' today. It felt threatening to go without her riding outfit at first since she had associated going out with danger, but after strolling down for a while it actually became quite refreshing. It had been ages since she had gone out to simply fetch her needs and satisfy the eyes.

Maybe it was the length of her hair, maybe it was them being an odd pair, but for reasons she couldn't really fathom she found people's eyes trailing their steps as they walked. Osamu seemed oblivious to it all, although he was showing his anxiety by keeping his hands inside his pockets. The absence of his hat proved to be something he had not prepared to endure. He'd told her that his Mistress had forbidden him from wearing it, saying that he should let his face show, which in other words meant that he was made a walking advertisement. As for her... Well, she would be lying if she wasn't afraid of being spotted by those who wanted her life, but she would be a worse liar if she said that she didn't enjoy the attention. From the males, especially.

Sherry stopped in front of a department store. Mannequins clothed in various outfits stood on display. She observed the male outfits, noting the price as well as the style, then said to Osamu, "Why don't we go in? I think you may find something that suits you here." She was particularly interested in the variety of jackets they were selling. Osamu needed a new one to replace the old one of his.

The sulking young man simply shrugged, the gesture seemed more non-committal than ever. "Lead the way."

She did. They went into the building, going straight into the Men's Clothing section. Sherry started to skim through the collections of T-shirts and jackets currently on sale while pretending not to hear Osamu's low grumbling. The shopping had just started and he already looked bored.

She held out a dark V-neck shirt in front of his face. "What do you think?" she asked.

The frown settled back between his eyebrows, darkening his features. "What I'm thinking, seriously? This is all unnecessary, a waste of money and time—"

Sherry withdrew her hand in a sharp movement. "Stop," she said, closing her eyes. "My mistake for asking your opinion in the first place." She rummaged through the selection of clothes, grabbing four more shirts of different style and color.

Osamu didn't seem to be listening; his eyes were darting from one object to another with obvious distaste. "I don't understand why people bother to buy so many clothes of so many styles."

A fitting thought for someone like him. Sherry had a hard time to hold her laughter nonetheless. "So? You prefer going outside naked?"

He looked more irritated than he was embarrassed. "No, I'm still sane, thank you." He shoved folded his hands over his chest, a sign of discomfort. "It's just I don't get why people have to put on a different look each time they go out."

The logic that clothing was only necessary to obscure nudity really suited him, Sherry thought. Osamu was a very practical man, someone who would go camping without an extra amount of clothes than what he thought would be necessary—which was none, save for the ones he had on.

"You can stay in your cave and no one would bother," she said, feigning irritation. "But now that you finally choose to be a part of modern society... Well, welcome to Neo Domino." Two pairs of jeans were fished out: they were light blue and black. She measured them in both hands. She took the black one.

Grunting loudly, Osamu finally chose to keep his complaints to himself.

She couldn't think of a way to cheer him up, not with her amusement growing like a sunflower welcoming the morning sun. It was heartwarming, really, to see the nature of their relationship being toppled upside down. Usually, she would be the one who was at the peril of his dark humor, so when reality was being generous in reversing their roles, she wouldn't miss a chance to enjoy each ticking second.

"Can I help you with something?"

The cheery voice that came from behind her back gained her attention. She turned to meet a female shopkeeper smiling brightly at them. The nametag on her chest read 'Noriko Ishihara.' "I'm looking for something 'fancy' for this cave dweller here," Sherry said with an inclination of her chin toward Osamu.

The addressed person snorted, and for some reason it only widened the smile plastered on Noriko's face. "My, I'm sure we have 'fancy' collection that would suit him nicely," she quipped. Noriko took the jeans from Sherry and gestured for them to follow her. "Please come with me."

Noriko took them to a section of department with 'SALE!' posters and signs protruding from baskets and display racks. Sherry noticed that some shopkeepers were giving them an amused look and a knowing grin. They probably had laid their eyes on her and Osamu ever since he'd started complaining, the little action of defiance that he was still clinging to like a child whose candy was taken away by a dentist. It was a funny sight to watch, actually, for a grown man to sulk as he shopped. Well, at least it would have been, if it weren't for the fact that _she _was the one who was doing all the shopping here.

At their third stop for shirts and trousers, Sherry's patience bar was finally depleted.

She shot him a glare over her shoulder. "Will you behave?"

"I wasn't saying anything," he shot back, defensive.

Sherry rolled her eyes. "Your mouth may be tight but your face speaks in languages." Even as she spoke, Osamu was still _pouting_ and _scowling_. Ignoring Noriko's startled/amused expression, she stopped in her tracks and impatiently jabbed a finger at his chest. "Don't put on that look all the time; you look like a pre-teen being dragged into shopping by his mother. You're twenty, so act like an adult your age."

The finality in her tone must have had hit him, for she swore, if he'd stayed pouty for another second she would have left him without a second thought. Osamu fixed his sour expression, trying to look casual and nonchalant, albeit still maintaining some rigidity in his posture. "Understood," he slowly said.

"Good."

Now that he seemed determined to keep his tongue tied, the dress-up could begin.

A combination of dark trousers and blue shirts didn't sit well with her; blue never seemed to be okay for him. Sherry shook her head at Osamu who just reappeared from the dressing room. No, she wouldn't try blue anymore. "Try this one."

What about red, then? It took more than ten seconds for her to glance up and down his figure to finally nod her head. Better. The color was more suited on him since it brought out his eyes and hair. "Now, this one."

Sleeveless shirts immediately received a critical review. Osamu was a tall guy with slender build; the shirt was capable of showing off his lithe frame, but for some reason Sherry felt that he was not the 'I-work-out-frequently' material. It could fit him, though, if he chose to wear a jacket. She gave him a half-hearted nod of approval. "Next."

Jeans versus Khakis. He looked okay in both that it actually didn't matter. Light colors didn't suit him, so Sherry only took the black and dark blue ones. "Okay, now these—"

"Wait, Sher. I don't think I need a new jacket," Osamu interjected as he received a stack of try-ons from Noriko.

Sherry crossed her arms, showing her exasperation blatantly. Someone just never learned. "Say that again and you'll be fired in a week."

With a repressed growl, Osamu began donning the jacket one by one, all the while narrowing his eyes at his own reflection.

Green? His face twisted in disgust before she could even say anything. "I look like some kind of frog mascot." Sherry and Noriko shared a glance, then a shake of head. Dropped.

Brown? Good, but somehow it made him look more like a cowboy rather than a duelist. Dropped.

Black. "Pretty standard and simple, isn't it?" Osamu asked as he adjusted the collar that was layered with fur. Sherry tilted her head in thoughts before finally giving him a slow 'Okay.' It was better than nothing, and it was all the way more worth it if it could finally fit in his ancient wardrobe.

Right, so now was...white. Hell no. A white shirt was okay, but a jacket...? He looked as if he put too much effort in dressing up it actually made him look as if he was mimicking Atlas out of desperation. The color was dropped without too much thought.

What about gray? "Looks nice on you, sir," Noriko commented. The best after dark red and black, Sherry should say. The color matched a dark shirt and his black jeans nicely. If red brought out his coloring, then gray quietly enhanced it. Osamu seemed to like it too—that was if he ever liked anything fashion-related. He didn't scowl when he consulted the mirror, so Sherry took that as a go.

At the seventeenth jacket, she finally motioned for him to stop. "I think this should be enough," she said as she pointed her index finger at the piles of clothes and jackets in Noriko's arms. Osamu let out a relieved sigh and handed out the last jacket he had put on to the poor woman. The brunette would definitely have a hard time making her way to the cashier without stumbling.

Sherry let out a sigh of relief herself. One hour of shopping had felt like an eternity with him. An eternity spent searching for a single needle in a haystack, to be exact. Never in her life would she think of helping him in this area ever again, no matter how amusing and enjoyable the first ten minutes would be. Ten minutes of his suffering—a.k.a her delight—could not be compared to fifty minutes full of complaints and low growls that she had to endure. She nudged Osamu's arm. "Pay, and this day is over for good."

Complying tiredly, he nodded and went to the cashier. Sherry quietly fell into step behind him, already thinking of soft pillows and comfortable bed and some booze. Yes, she would definitely not going to go through this kind of ordeal again if possible. Maybe she could refer him to her butler instead if he ever asked for another clothes hunt in the future.

Her mind was still elsewhere when the cashier lady told Osamu that he got a prized coupon that would drop the price of his shopping goods by fifty percent. "How come?" Osamu asked. Bewilderment and hope were vibrant in his voice.

"This was found in your purchased jeans' pocket, Sir," said the lady as she showed them a tiny chip in the color of dark green. "This is a special item that we attach randomly to our collection, and the rule has it: the first person who purchases an item with this chip attached is going to get a 50% discount."

A blink of surprise from Osamu. Then a low whistle. The cashier lady laughed and said, "Actually it is in the brochure. Many of our customers come seeking it."

Hm. So that was why the place was suddenly very busy. Well, they surely hadn't known about it, but Sherry kept silent. What mattered the most now that the hellish shopping hour had ended and—

"Wait!"

—she would finally be able to rest...

...Wouldn't she?

"I have a coupon too! I found it first!"

Apparently not so fast.

Too tired to even sigh, she turned to see who the owner of the voice was and found her immediately. A woman with a pair of thick glasses was walking furiously towards them, a shopkeeper with a mountain of clothes following her from behind in staggering steps.

Osamu's eyes widened as she neared. "You—"he began, but he was cut short by the woman's angry retort.

"Don't 'you' me! I have every right to get a 50% discount too, even more than you do!" she yelled at both Osamu and the cashier lady. She held out a similar green chip in front of the cashier lady's face like a detective in old movies showing his ID card. "I found it in a jacket's inner pocket that I've decided to buy! You!" The woman turned around to glare at the shopkeeper who was still having trouble to stand without flailing. "Tell them I got it first!"

If Sherry had any energy left to pity the addressed girl, she would have done so. The shopkeeper visibly flinched and swayed at the woman's rising tone, looking all more miserable as she tried to steady herself on her feet, a task nearly impossible with the luggage in her arms. "Y-yes, ma'am," she squeaked weakly, her voice buried in the mountain of clothes. "The lady retrieved said jacket from the very first moment she started shopping. I was there to help her, so I saw it—"

The shopkeeper's sentence was left unfinished, cut by the woman's pointed glare—directed at the cashier lady. "See?! Told you I got it first!"

"But this gentleman came to the cashier first," the cashier lady stated gently. Sherry had to admire her placidity given the circumstances. "The rule states that whoever gets to the cashier first with the coupon is to get the discount."

"What?!" The woman's voice went up another octave. Everyone within range of hearing had all but turned their eyes on them. "What kind of a lame joke is this?! Didn't you hear what this girl say? I _got _it first!"

"Hey, I got to the cashier first, okay," said Osamu. He was subconsciously drawing himself to his full height, obviously trying to cool down the atmosphere as well as winning the bet. The notion of being granted a 50% discount was overwhelming, and Sherry was sure he was not going to let it slip away, especially when the clothes on _his _basket towered into the same height as the woman's. "Why don't you just let it pass, Nagisa?"

Sherry blinked, at Osamu then at the scowling woman. "You know her?" she asked the former.

A movement of his shoulder spoke 'yes' and 'no' at the same time. The one addressed as Nagisa hissed, looking deeply irritated and offended. "I swear it was a misfortune to meet you," she said to Osamu.

"I assure you, the feeling is mutual."

At the boiling anger of Nagisa's, the cashier lady chose the most inappropriate timing to say, "Sorry, Miss, but it's the rule."

Sure enough, she was quickly rewarded with a venomous glare—to which the thickness of her glasses prevented from leaking—but she lowered her gaze all the same. Nagisa crossed her arms defiantly. "I'm not letting this once-in-a-lifetime-chance go," she said.

Osamu assumed a similar gesture. "Neither am I."

Okay, this was going to evolve more than a simple debate. The people had beginning to crowd the two brawlers, whispering and murmuring between themselves. So much for her motto of being a low-profile immigrant. Carefully, she took a step back from the them, trying to distance herself from the two volcanos that looked more than ready to erupt at each other's faces. Right, she could slip away, go home, and enjoy her evening quietly without having to participate in this shameful ruckus.

"What is this?"

Sherry almost lost her balance when she was bumped from behind by a massive shoulder of a striding giant. Stumbling forward, she was once again pushed to Osamu's side.

A man almost twice Osamu's size glared down at shopkeepers around the cashier before his narrowing eyes set themselves on Nagisa and Osamu. He was clothed in a fine suit, his hair combed back and his expression was reminding Sherry of a sulking hippopotamus. "I am the manager of this department store," he bellowed, voice ringing like a thunder in a cloudy sky. "What is the cause of this commotion?"

A shifting gaze and barely two seconds later, Sherry realized that her well-laid plans might as well pack up and take a trip to Tartarus. The gigantic manager was including _her _in his observation, and it was clear that whatever hypothesis he may have formulated about the mess, she was already branded as a variable.

The cashier lady, who looked as if she'd just been petrified, recovered the quickest. "Our deepest apologies, Mr. Raiden, these two customers here each has the coupon of the day and they are arguing who should be the one to get the discount."

Manager Raiden's thick eyebrows were drawn together they almost formed a single furious 'v' line on his forehead. Osamu's face was impassive, perhaps already calculating the pros and cons of backing up now; but the look on Nagisa's face didn't change a bit. She was still crossing her arms, her whole posture challenging. "Hmm... Who got to the cashier first?" he asked.

"I did," Osamu replied. Jerking his thumb toward Sherry, he added, "She's a witness."

"But I got the coupon first and I have a witness too!" Nagisa yelled as she pulled the shopkeeper who had been accompanying her to her side. Sherry noticed how all the staffs around them flinched. The manager must have never been opposed in such a way. Failing to recognize this, Nagisa spoke again. "The rule is bullshit! The person who gets the coupon first should be the one getting the discount!" Either the glasses blurred her vision or she was born blind...

"So you're saying that you should be the one who gets the discount?"

"What else am I saying?"

To everyone's surprise, the manager grinned, so broad and mischievous that Sherry hoped she could simply just vanish into thin air. A grin like that could only mean one thing: trouble. And trouble was something she liked to avoid, especially in the face of this many people.

"So this lady is claiming that she got the coupon first and was only a bit late to get to the cashier, eh? Interesting."

Okay, 'interesting' was equal to double trouble now. She could now only pray that none of her pursuers were in the department store.

"All right," the manager boomed with a clap of his hands. "Since both of you have the rights to get the discount, why don't we just decide who's the lucky person today with a little competition?"

"Competition?" Osamu echoed.

"A duel." Manager Raiden swept a hand towards the crowd, his eyes glinting like a predator who'd just found a prey lurking near his lair. "You've gathered spectators this many, isn't it rude to simply shoo them away? I'm sure they're up for some entertainment."

The crowd cheered their yes. Sherry thanked the lady fortune. A duel would present her with a chance to escape. The duelists wouldn't notice her disappearing into the eager crowd since she had no reasons to stay here in the first place anyway.

"So a Tag Duel it is!"

Wait. "What?"

The grin spread even impossibly wider. "You heard me, Miss, a Tag Duel. You're a witness to his case and the persistent lady here also has a witness," he explained, indicating at the miserable shopkeeper beside Nagisa with a sweep of his hand. "So, yes, two versus two. A Tag Duel. And since the discount is the prized bet, this will be a quick, breathless duel with 2000 Life Points." He turned to the shopkeeper whose nametag read 'Nobuko Narita' to say, "You too. Get ready."

The dark haired woman yelped her yes, surprise, horror and fear were etched on her pale face. She received her Duel Disk from her co-worker with trebling hands. People were already forming a circle around them as well as stepping back to give them the space they needed.

Some smart replies and arguments were forming in Sherry's head, but they puffed into the air when Nagisa pointed her index finger at her and Osamu. "I'm going to beat you up and earn the prize! Let's settle this, once and for all!"

"But I'm not—I haven't—"

Osamu nodded sternly, having received a duel disk from a shopkeeper himself, thus ignoring her reluctance. "Ready, Sher?" 'We have to get the discount' was the inaudible statement written all over his face.

"Fine!" She grabbed the duel disk being lent to her with a blossoming rage. Why did things never go as she wanted? What god had she wronged this time that she should suffer such an ignominious fate? "The sooner I can leave, the better. Just get this over with and let me go home!"

"As if you had one," Osamu muttered with a mirthless chuckle. "Last time I checked, you were still prone to borrowing someone's sofa for a nap—"

A stomp on his right foot silenced him.

"Duel!"

**_(Sherry & Osamu – 2000) vs. (Carly & Nobuko – 2000)_**

"The discount is mine! Draw!" Carly took her sixth card and spent no time to activate the newly drawn card. "Fortune Fairy must be smiling at me today! My ace monster right at the start! May Fortune bless my move: come to my side, Summoner Monk!"

(_Summoner Monk 800 / 1600 / 4_) An entity that resembled human in appearance leapt out of the darkness, its purple robe fluttering as it brought its feet into a sitting position in the air. The monk was changed into to defense position automatically upon its summoning, and Sherry could only guess that it was just a small piece of the odd woman's tactics.

"Wohoo, I'm on a roll." Nagisa picked a card from her hand, a Spell, and placed it on her Duel Disk. "Next, I shall activate Future Visions!" The moment of the Field Spell's activation, the area around them shattered, re-materializing, forming a vacant dimension with visions of various places and timeline flowing above their heads. "This card will remove any normal summoned monsters from play and return it to the field the next standby phase," she explained. "Summoner Monks' special effect, activate now! By discarding one Spell Card from my hand, I can special summon a level 4 monster from my deck." Nagisa's deck was shuffled until a card she picked was on top. She drew it with a mischievous grin. "I choose to summon Lady Light from my deck!"

(_Fortune Lady Light ? / ? / 1_) A petite spell caster jumped happily to her side of the field. Sherry had to blink thrice to ensure that she didn't miss what she'd just seen. "An unknown ATK and DEF?" she mused aloud. "What kind of monster is that?"

"A monster specialized in bringing bad luck," came the flat-toned reply from Osamu.

Nagisa heard it and her devious grin only grew. "Yes. To _you_." The Field Spell's effect quickly enshrouded Fortune Lady Light in darkness, taking it to the underworld for one phase. "Lady Light's special effect will enable me to special summon one Fortune Lady Monster from my deck. Go, go, go, Lady Earth!"

(_Fortune Lady Earth ? / ? / 6_) This time, a slightly larger fortune lady in brown appeared. Again Sherry noticed that the ATK and DEF of the monster were unknown. _What kind of deck is she operating_..._?_

To her annoyance, the answer came just a second after the monster made its stand. "Lady Earth's ATK and DEF, if you're wondering, are specified by its level. For each star level, she gains 400 points for both. So now she has..." The woman truly did pause a moment to count with her fingers. "2400 points of attack and defense!"

(_Fortune Lady Earth 2400 / 2400 / 6_) A purplish aura enveloped Lady Earth, and she absorbed it with a pleasant smile blooming on her face, revealing sharp, jagged teeth that didn't match its otherwise clumsy appearance. Beside her, Sherry could hear Osamu snorting in disbelief after noting how the people cheered at Nagisa's move. Even she had to admit that it was some clever trick.

"I set up one card and end the turn."

**_Turn 2 (Sherry & Osamu – 2000) vs. (Carly & Nobuko – 2000)_**

"My turn," Sherry announced as she drew a card. After briefly scanning her cards, she immediately went for a Spell Card. "First thing first, I'll crush your Field Spell with Mystical Space Typhoon!"

"What? No!" Nagisa screamed.

A strong wind blew the arena, sweeping away the crumbling dimension with little difficulty. Right, now that the troublesome card was destroyed, she picked out a monster and summoned it without so much as a breath. "I summon the Horse of the Floral Knights to my side."

(_Horse of the Floral Knights 400 / 800 / 3_) An armored horse landed on the field, its heavy gear making a clattering sound as it shrieked and hissed. "You're not the only one with Special Effect Monsters here. My monster's effect lets me add a Polymerization from my deck," Sherry informed. She drew the newly shuffled card and activated it. "I fuse my Horse with Sacred Knight's Spearholder from my hand to call upon Centaur Mina!"

On cue, the horse and the card from her hand were swallowed by a swirling energy which took them beyond the netherworld, a move that enraged Nagisa and earned a low whistle from the bulky manager.

(_Centaur Mina 2200 / 1600 / 6_) A female centaur in white and golden armor leapt from the dimensional rift, brandishing its long lance and letting out a battle cry, its long red hair a fiery sight. The Manager and the people seemed to realize that Mina's ATK value is lower than Lady Earth's as they began to narrow their eyes and murmur in bewilderment. Sherry smiled and revealed another card from her hand. "Honest. This fairy shall boost Mina's ATK during the Damage Step, so you can stop worrying," she told Nagisa.

"Hey, that's unfair!"

"Says the one in minority," said Osamu. "End this quick, Sher."

"I plan to." Yes, this duel didn't need to last for long. It was always better to get things over with and be done with anything that might attract suspicion and unwanted attention. She'd had enough already. "Commence, Battle Phase! Slice through the odds, Mina! Attack Lady Earth!"

Hones began to glow in her hand, lending its effect to the galloping centaur to increase its Attack Power, which Mina received as she shouted.

"T-trap Card, activate now!" The centaur's lance was only an inch from the cowering Lady Earth when the attack target was warped out of the field, sending Mina almost off balance when her lance struck empty air. "Slip of Fortune," declared Nagisa with a shuddering breath. "This card will let me negate Mina's attack by removing Lady Earth from play until the next Standby Phase."

"This is such a—" Sherry swallowed a long list of curses borne from her already broken patience bar. She shook her head furiously and tried, in vain, to repress her rage. "You'd better do something against her tricky deck," she told Osamu, setting up one card on her Trap Zone before ending her turn.

From the angry scowl on his face, he too seemed to be in a trial of endurance himself. "I'll see what I can do."

**_Turn 3 (Sherry & Osamu – 2000) vs. (Carly & Nobuko – 2000)_**

"Umm... It's... my turn, I guess." Nobuko drew her sixth card, obvious uncertainty coloring her face like a single dark cloud hanging on a blue sky. The glaring competition Nagisa and Sherry were having could melt the ice berg that Titanic had crashed into, and Osamu wasn't helping her to steady herself by narrowing his eyes dangerously, perhaps already wishing for her to faint from her low self-confidence so that the duel could be won without delay. For once, Sherry shared his dark thought.

"I—I activate a Spell from my hand," she said weakly, somewhat managing to swallow and breathe under the intense mental assault Osamu and Sherry were unleashing upon her. "Graceful  
Charity." An angel with two pairs of white wings jumped into existence besider her and selected two cards from her hand to be exchanged to the three cards she had drawn from her deck. After she took it, she held out one monster card and placed it on her Disk. "Um, I summon Granola to my side of the field."

(_Flam ell Grunika 1700 / 200 / 4_) A blazing demon with bat wings materialized from a small tornado of flames. Sherry was beginning to think just how absurd this whole event was; please, a girl who couldn't even stand right on her feet was playing an aggressive pyro deck... What more could she possibly ask from the senseless gods above? This world was going mad, and the snickering manager was going to agree with her, she was sure.

Oblivious to the thoughts running in Sherry's mind, Nobuko activated a monster's effect from her hand. "Flamvell Commando can be special summoned by tributing a Flamvell monster, you see..." Oh, hell. "So, please come to the field."

(_Flamvell Commando 2200 / 200 / 6_) Grunika was swallowed by a darker flame when from the same Hell Gate appeared a big, armored warrior who announced its presence with a berserker's roar, sending the crowd into an abrupt silence. Okay, now absurdity had just reached a whole new level, and Carly, the only person who was delighted by it, jumped as she threw her fist in glee. "Whoo, girl! You're awesome!" she cried. "That was one hell of a move!"

Nobuko had the intelligence not to blush or smile under Sherry's vicious stare. "Um, thanks. Well, if I may continue... Battle Phase, please. Lady Earth, you may attack the centaur if you wish..."

With a snarl, Sherry shot her Trap Card into activation. A silver rose bloomed in front of Mina, shielding her from harm as it grew in size and cushioned Lady Earth's attack. "Floral Shield. It negates an attack and lets me draw one card as an addition." She drew the bonus card before letting Nobuko to proceed—all the while maintaining her eyes fixed on the woman's. Plan failed, she didn't pass out.

"I set up a face-down card. End Turn."

**_Turn 4 (Sherry & Osamu – 2000) vs. (Carly & Nobuko – 2000)_**

Osamu drew his card, muttering, "This duel better be worth it."

"I should be the one saying so," Sherry said dryly.

He gave her a look that was nearly apologetic and sympathetic at the same time. He knew how she hated unnecessary troubles and if he still had his sanity left, he would be wishing that she was generous enough of letting this all go after the duel. She was, after all, not known for her patience and forgiving nature. "I'll... make up for this," he finally said.

"How?"

"A treat."

"I'm hard to please," she warned with a half-smile that was meant to be both threatening and uncompromising. "And I am certainly not going to be bribed with cheap meals and drinks."

A bitter smile touched his lips. "I know." The smile turned into a sly one. "Or maybe I can give _something _that cannot be measured with coins."

Sherry let her heeled boot to stomp on his foot again, harder and harsher than ever.


	11. Argent - Chapter 1

***~ Argent ~***

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Genre: Drama / Angst

Rating: M

Time Setting: AU

Prompted by: Lynch Presley

Type: Multichapter

* * *

The sharp sound of belt whipping through the air was followed by the familiar stinging sensation on Osamu's back. The pain on his flesh jolted him awake, sharpening his senses for a split second before dulling them completely. Before he could afford to recoil, another hit landed on him.

"You think—"

The man who was standing in front of him raised his hand again in attempt to aim for another strike.

"—you can fool me?!"

The belt that was held in his hand came down in a deadly accuracy and speed. Having almost no choice but to brace himself for the next hit, Osamu could only shield his head with both arms.

The belt met his flesh again, on the left shoulder now. Damn, that hurt. The wound that was yet to heal was there, and he swore that it was starting to open again. The pain was too great to be ignored this time; his flesh burned where the belt touched and left it. Safe for a grunt that escaped his throat, Osamu uttered no words, persistent to keep his mouth shut.

"You wasted _my _money just to buy a damned toy!" the man hollered, voice echoing through the sumptuous living room. He smelled of alcohol and metal and cologne. On his left hand was a can of beer that had been opened; his shirt a crumpled mess, the tie had been loosened and his collar unbuttoned. "I thought I could finally trust you!"

Osamu gritted his teeth to hold back some smart replies he had been forming since he'd come home. He knew that the man was only taunting him—and he wouldn't fall for it. It was quickly becoming an old tactic, really, if not something that was too-easy-to-see-through. A word of defiance, and more hits would scar his body. He'd learnt to be quiet in this kind of session. He'd learnt to endure the pain and still his tongue. No resistance was going to give him a chance anyway. His old man was almost two heads taller than him, and with his stocky build, it would be like battling a bull.

He gulped down his beer, tasted the last drip, and threw the empty can at Osamu. What was left in the can tainted his uniform with black splotches. "D'you know how mah money I spend juz to feed ya?!" The man's voice had gone up an octave and his speech had become more and more incoherent. "Ye think ye're so smart ye can buy evrythin in this world, huh? Za fuck, all ya do and evr'ythin you—"

The sentence left unfinished as the belt came hissing down again—slower, and much weaker this time. His movement was gradually becoming sluggish, and Osamu took this as a cue that the man was about to pass out soon.

He was right. Two more hits, and his old man hiccupped, fell to one knee, and lay flat on the ground, snoring heavily the moment his face met the carpet. Osamu stretched out from his position with some difficulty. He forced his aching body to move and ignoring its want to stay in the crouched position. He checked his uniform and was thankful that the sturdy material had not been torn by the lashes. It meant that he didn't have to have it stitched again, then, which was a good news.

Moving as silent as possible, he lightly poked the sleeping drunkard on the shoulder. A response came: a heavy throaty sound that didn't even resemble a word. The windows connecting the grand living room and the garden were still curtained, and with the minimum lighting, the man lying motionless on the carpeted floor looked like a corpse.

His father was really out this time.

Good.

Osamu walked limply to the bathroom, his stagger deliberate and pained. Gosh, he really was lucky that his old man hadn't brought his cane with him. He didn't know if he could wish for anything—he was simply thankful that he didn't get anything serious this time—but a belt was preferable rather than a _steel _cane. If only for a tiny bit.

In the bathroom, he wet a towel with cold water, undressed, and cleaned himself in front of a large mirror. No major wounds, except maybe for the purplish mark that stretched from his shoulder down to his back. The diagonal scars that tattooed his left arm were turning pink already. The wounds from yesterday were still in the process of healing. Sheer luck. His father must have been drunk for quite some time before greeting him home with his belt. A quick ordeal was a rarity, and it was something to be celebrated for.

After dressing in his casual wear, he navigated through the empty mansion, his feet having a mind on their own. They took him to the second-largest bedroom in the house. He knocked once before entering. The room was kind of dark: the curtains had not been drawn, making the dim evening light that managed to slip through the fabrics the only thing that kept the room from succumbing into total darkness.

Lying statue-still on the double bed was a woman whose hair was loosely astray. The semi-darkness prevented him from getting a good look at her but he knew how she would look: pale and deceivingly serene. He touched the woman's face with his fingers, skimming them against her skin lightly, then pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I'm home, Mom," he said quietly. Whether or not the woman could hear his voice was a mystery. Doctors had provided him with theories and assumptions about comatose people, but he hadn't bought a thing. Theories were just theories. He wasn't sure that she was capable of hearing, but more than once he'd found her eyelashes flutter when he spoke to her. More often than not he was rewarded with no response at all. Talking to her had been more of an effort for _him _to stay sane, to keep whatever hopes that remained within him alive no matter how little the spark was.

He picked some strands of her chestnut hair, the only thing he might have inherited from her—much to his disgust at bearing a close resemblance to the drunken bastard lying on the living room carpet—and mused, "Look at your hair. It's gotten quite long. I will call someone to cut it later, okay." He gave her hand a light squeeze before checking the medical equipment. Good, everything was operating normally. "I'll be going out for a while, might not return until Monday. Rest well." With that, he left the room.

He went to his room at the third floor and collected his bag and stuffed it with things he would need for a two-day stay. Operating without thinking was something he'd developed during his days when the beating was harsher and more frequent. The manor was something he'd associated with hatred and dark memories, save for a woman who now could not even lift a finger.

Staying under the same roof as his father was something he'd not been able to tolerate. He would sneak his way out whenever he was home, or when circumstances prevented him from doing so, would lock himself in his room until he was out for work. Thankfully, such a trial was gradually becoming less and less distressing. Ever since his father had been elected as a Senator, he spent most of his days working and traveling from one country to another, coming home for only a few days each month. Huh. He pitied the people who had voted for him, but at the same time, grateful. The less that bastard spent his days at home, the better.

He walked briskly, eager to exit the manor, but finding his feet pausing when he came across the figure of his father in the living room. A thought crossed his mind. He turned and walked over to him, looking down at the tall man, keenly aware of the anger building up in his chest.

It was not the first time that he considered of silently choking him to death. But the urge to keep his hands from conspiring with the dark thought often prevailed; sanity should be prioritized if he ever wanted to become _less _like _him_.

If there was something the man was worth for, it would be his purse. He carefully slid his fingers into his trousers pocket. Taking a quarter of the money he had on his person wouldn't make him suspicious; he wouldn't even remember how much he'd stocked when he woke up. He slid the wallet back into his pocket after he was done.

Stupid old man, he thought as he stood there, towering over him for once. He would, someday, find a way to be free from his clutches. He would be free from this accursed life. That was one promise he intended to keep.

* * *

xx - 5D's - xx

* * *

The streets of Neo Domino had always been busy, even when it rained. The bustling metropolis had never slept: the air always smelled of opportunities and business. Getting a little bit soaked and catching a cold, apparently, didn't seem to deter people from keeping up with their agenda.

The light rain was slowly evolving into a heavy one. The black clouds dancing above people's heads had multiplied, and the wind had begun to pick up, dropping the temperature even more. Safely shielded by his umbrella, Osamu waited along with a small crowd of people for the lights to turn red. It was mid-autumn, and despite how much he hated to include an umbrella in his bag, he was thankful that he had. Some people who were not so lucky only had their bags or magazines to shield themselves from the rain—which of course didn't do much of a job.

He tightened his jacket around him. Damn it was getting cold. He flicked his eyes impatiently at the lights, mentally cursing the machine, as if such an act would quicken the countdown. He just had to cross the road to get into the safety and warmth of the Tinker... If not for missing a second at the lights. The bar may be new, but he'd known the owner for ages. It was just across from where he stood now, really, and that was why this was getting annoying. Had he walked faster and caught the lights before it turned green, he would have missed the downpour.

He let his eyes and mind wander as he waited. A bunch of school girls were quietly chatting under their colorful umbrellas a step ahead of him, giggling and gossiping in hushed voices. Business people and workers were checking their watches, perhaps already counting how much time they'd lost this evening because of the rain and thinning on how to make up for it. Some city dwellers clad in casual clothes were either busy with their cellphones or staring absently at the traffic. His eyes shifted to study the streets, and that was when he spotted a small box tucked on a narrow passage between two buildings just next to the Tinker. Strange. Last time he'd gone to the bar, the box had not been there—with 'last time' meaning yesterday.

Suddenly, a small white ball of fur shot up from the box. He squinted to get a better look at the moving white thing. A...kitten? Two more heads came up, both white and black in color. Their pointy ears moved in a fast rhythm, perking up whenever a car passed by, twitching in agitation afterwards.

Ah. Now it made sense. Someone must have had left them due to his/her inability to keep them as pets. It explained a little note glued on the front side of the box.

The lights had turned red. He hadn't noticed it until someone gently pushed him from behind. Recovering from his transfixed trance, he crossed the road along with the pedestrians, all the while with his eyes still glued to the brown box. They were lucky, a voice in his mind rang. At least the previous owner realized that he couldn't keep those little creatures with him. Sending them into someone else's care was logical _and _merciful. How he wished his father had the conscience to send him into someone else's house.

The Law states that you could only move out after you've reached the age of seventeen, which he had, but it must be also under your parents' approval. Otherwise, they would be authorized to ask the police to issue a search, hence automatically branding you as a runaway. Doubled up with his father's position, it was downright impossible for him to wish for a move out.

At the other end of the road, the group of people parted their separate ways. Osamu walked to the Tinker's front door but stopped with a hand already on the doorknob when he saw a person walk towards the box. She was a feminine figure clad in a white jacket and dark jeans. With her umbrella swaying, he couldn't get a clear view of her face; her appearance suggested she was another youth of Neo Domino. He could, though, see the soft waves of her long hair tumbling down her back as she bent low and stretched a fair skinned hand to stroke a kitten's perking head. What caught his attention the most was the color of her hair. It was of the unique color of dark red, so deep the shade that it glinted at the touch of dim lights from the street lanterns, so rich the color that he'd almost mistaken it for brown in the play of lights. How unusual.

Unique.

At the small chorus of whimpers from the kittens, he let a half smile creep onto his face. Lucky little creatures indeed.

He entered the Tinker.

"Ah, welcome," greeted a familiar gruffy voice.

"Hey." He made his way to the bar past the tables and seated customers to claim a seat he'd branded as his ever since the place had been transformed into a bar. The whole place smelled of liquor and dishes, sweets and damp clothes.

Saiga turned to face him, a smile, a rather smug one, was beginning to lit up his face. "Maybe I shouldn't say 'welcome' after all," he said as he served him a glass full of dark liquid. Wine. "Happy birthday. Welcome to the adults' world." He nodded at the glass. "It's on me."

Osamu put down his bag and grinned. "'Been wanting to hear that."

"I can imagine. I've been seventeen too." One thing Osamu had to admire from the tall and lanky man was his ability to learn new things in a short period of time: he admitted that he had only started training to become a good bartender for two months, but his hands were already capable of working nimbly with empty glasses and bottles of wine in a graceful manner.

The bar was almost full with customers today, a little bit unusual considering that the moon hadn't risen just yet. Rain must be the reason why the place was suddenly favored. He toyed with the glass in his hand, shaking it absently. The ice cubes were making a pleasant clinking sound that was both foreign yet oddly familiar to his ears. He'd seen his father and several adults do it when they were enjoying their booze, and that was the red string. He'd seen it, heard the sound, but never been the one to produce it. It was stupid to be feeling satisfied over such a small thing—unreasonable, even—but he did. It made him feel as if he truly got a chance to stand up against his old man as an adult. Legitimately this time.

Saiga seemed to notice his lack of attention for he said, "A buck for your thoughts?"

"I'll stay over 'til Monday is what I'm thinking." He took a small sip from his glass. The cold sweetness spread over his tongue, lingering even after the liquid travelled down his throat to his belly. If he should conclude how it tasted then he would say that it was weird. Wine was so…surprisingly different from non-alcohol champagne he usually drank in parties and social events. Sweet, thick, rich, but a little bit dark and bitter at the same time—an explosion of tastes once it left his mouth.

The bartender laughed quietly at him. "It's good you don't spit it out. How do you like it?"

"Okay, I guess."

"Just not sweet enough?"

"Oh hell yeah, me and my crazy sweet tooth." He gulped down the wine in one go, earning him an amused look from Saiga. The wine had the desired effect on his body automatically; he could feel his body getting warmer, his head feeling lighter. "So? My things still intact?"

It had been two weeks since his last stay at the Tinker's basement, a place Saiga claimed he'd made especially for guests like him, and he missed the place already. Was it foolish of him to think it as a sanctuary? No, he thought, not if it could provide some comfort he would never be able to obtain at home. Saiga tossed him the key. "I left 'em untouched. Oh, and one more thing," he quickly added before Osamu went for the underground quarters. He dug his hand into his trouser pocket and produced another key. "Your new toy has arrived."

Osamu caught the second key with bulging eyes. He tried, and failed, to conceal excitement from coloring his voice and face. "What? When? It's here?"

Saiga's smile turned into a smirk at his apparent disbelief and joy. "It came this morning," the bartender affirmed. "And yeah, it's just down there." He uncorked a bottle of wine and pour the content into four waiting glasses in one fluid movement. "You can go have fun." 'I expect you to be back before dawn to help me clean the place,' was the unspoken statement which Osamu heard quite loud and clear. That was the deal: you wanna stay over? Pay the rent: get your ass working.

His thanks was trailing behind him as he raced through the door and stairs. Finally it came! Osamu practically flew down the stairs, feeling a sudden burst of energy overflowing him, making him totally forget the pain on his back. Quickly he tossed his bag and turned on the lights. Yes, it finally had arrived. Standing in the center of the basement garage was a two wheeled vehicle he'd only seen from afar and on magazines.

_His bike_ had arrived.

Eyes wide, he began to circle it in amazement.

Beautiful. There was really no other words to describe it. The sport bike, like any other middleweight bikes, had the engine and other heavy components structured marvelously. Its geometry told him just how exactly it would behave under acceleration, braking and cornering; the white metallic color seemed to absorb and reflect light in a bewitching way, making it harder for him to tear his gaze away from the vehicle. Hell, he couldn't _and _he wouldn't!

He remembered the time when he'd dreamed about riding on a bike of his own, and not it was no longer a dream—it was a dream within his grasp, and grasp he did. Carefully he let his fingers trace the parts, centimeter by centimeter. The twin projector beam headlamps, composite body, the clutch and windshield...

"Yo." A voice that came from behind almost made him jump. He turned to see a short figure clad in a rider's jacket walking towards him.

"Crow." He must have been too preoccupied with his bike that he hadn't noticed his presence until he was a mere three steps away from him.

Crow was a friend from his days playing and making all sorts of trouble in the streets. Unlike Osamu who still went to school, Crow had dropped out from high school last year and therefore didn't bother to keep his appearance modest and neat anymore. He was a rather short guy with tattoos and a serious number of piercings. His hair had been styled into spikes, supported with a black bandana that enhanced the effect the golden tattoos and marks on his face, and he sported this biker look everywhere he went. Which suited his idea of 'living a free life without restraints,' as Osamu quoted it.

Crow's face broke into a grin when his eyes settled on the bike. "Holy shit! This is the babe?"

"Yeah." If this world was mocking him for being proud like a child with a new bicycle then he was going to ignore it for the time being. He put a hand on his hip, saying, "You've got to know how much pain exactly I endured to get this thing."

A low whistle came from Crow. He surveyed the bike with eyes full of wonder like a wolf lusting after a hunk of meat. Crow, after all, was someone who shared his love for sport bikes and his passion for machinery, two of many things that made them get along relatively well. "I can tell this is a nice catch all right," he mused aloud. "Did your dad find out?"

"He did, but I knew he was going to, sooner or later. That's why I asked for the bike to be delivered to Saiga's instead." His father would probably resell or smash it to bits if he ever saw it anyway.

"And you got away from him?" he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Osamu was painfully conscious of his heart rate increasing, the pain on his back pulsing again, almost faltering his smile. If not for the sly grin on his friend's face, he would have guessed that Crow had somehow discovered his family's secret—found out of his father's behavior at home; the _senator_'s abuse of his own child.

He summoned what he hoped would be a convincing conspiratorial grin. "He was in a nasty mood, but I sneaked past him and made it here." _Alive._

"Some sneak ninja you are," Crow said with a snicker. "Oh yeah, Kyo told me there's going to be a raid tonight. Wanna come along? It'll be a good opportunity to test the babe out."

This time, he didn't have to fake the grin or downplay the rising excitement that must have shown. "Absolutely."


	12. Lassitude

***~ Lassitude ~***

* * *

Starring: Jack A.

Genre: Humor

Rating: K+

Time Setting: Tag Force 5

Directly Linked to: Echo

Prompted by: FamOOWL

Type: One-shot

* * *

This world was full of mysteries.

For starters, you would never be able to know where the wind was going to carry fluttering leaves which had parted from their branch. The same could be said to almost everything related to Dueling. You may bet your luck on a duelist whom you considered worthy, then left disappointed at the turns of event which resulted in his loss. In the end, nothing was ever certain.

Jack knew all that. His encounter with the Dark Signers had also taught him the same lesson, and he swore to never underestimate his opponents again after the incident with Carly, for possibilities were endless, and you would never be able to predict what time may reveal. But there was one thing that was constant in all these riddles: that there were things that men were not supposed to unravel; hidden truths that were determined to remain uncovered.

At the moment, cooking an omelet sky-rocketed to top the list.

For perhaps the tenth time, the former king flipped the white-and-yellow thing with a spatula, hoped that it would land back safely on the frying pan, and was rewarded with failure. The egg flew up from the pan and spluttered against the wall instead, creating an ugly left-over of a slimy trail on the white, spotless wall. Jack took a deep breath, resisting the urge to toss the cooking equipment's and utensils around him. More cleaning to do with no satisfying result to his 'training' then.

"How's it going?" a familiar voice called. A familiar voice Jack had associated with torment and anger-management trials.

Simon entered the kitchen with a dip of his head. The guy was a bulky, tan-skinned man whose height surpassed that even Jack's; and it was exactly because of his height that he always had to duck whenever he went through doors. Doors that were built for normal human beings anyway. Simon was out of the category. Jack had convinced himself of that after he watched how the guy could work with _four _frying pans all at once without having the food he was working on ruined.

Jack whirled reluctantly to meet Simon's eyes. He immediately regretted it. Simon had this amused expression on his face, his mouth curving up into an almost-sneer; his eyes crinkled as he stared at the mess Jack had created.

"The Mistress is not going to be pleased with this. She'd get cranky if she saw her kitchen in this state," he said very slowly as he tried to erase the sympathetic grin off his face.

Jack sent him a death-glare. "You don't seem to be _that _cranky about it," he said, venom in his voice.

"Sorry." Simon cleared his throat, the gesture serving more like a cover-up of a chuckle/laughter that was about to emerge from his mouth. "Well, Atlas, I must say that I am... quite impressed, that you haven't set this building on fire. But you might want to clean up the place before the Mistress and her chefs see what you've done."

"You're talking as if I've just blown up the kitchen," Jack muttered. He didn't want to acknowledge that it was partially true, of course. The place was, as Jeannine would put it, in one hell of a mess. Eggshells were scattered on the floor, there were trails of burnt eggs around the stove, and the walls were splotchy—from the failures he had unintentionally tossed to its smooth surface. Today's evening training session was going to drain more of his energy, especially the cleaning session.

Simon cast a glance to a clock hanging on the wall and smiled at Jack. "It's almost eleven, so I suppose it's enough for today. Judging from how this place looks, you still haven't been able to grasp the basics of cooking yet. I should say I'm rather pleased with your performance today, but I guess praises for your attempt on cooking should be held back until you can produce an edible omelet." Jack had made progress in every area except for cooking, and Simon was ordered by the cafe owner to drill him until he mastered everything about working at a cafe. (Though Jack suspected that these cooking trials would only increase his cleaning skills). The big man smiled wryly at his expression and added, "Don't look so gloomy. A progress is still a progress."

He had some good retorts to spit out, but chose to tie his tongue. There was no need to be sarcastic, especially when the guy was only trying to cheer him up. An attempt that always met a dead end. "Thanks," was all that Jack could think of as a reply. He paused and added, "I'll begin cleaning up now," before Simon could say more to wound his pride.

"Good. And oh yeah, maybe it will be too late for you to go home today, so you can borrow my room for tonight. I'm going to stay on a friend's bar, so I won't use it until tomorrow evening."

Jack frowned, still unsure of what to say. Was this a test? Was Simon trying to work him 'til morning without saying it out loud? For the Crimson Dragon's sake, the guy was a mystery. He may appear cheerful and friendly, but working around him for two weeks had taught Jack that the big man hid many things beneath that easy smile of his.

"Ah, and Satou is going to stay here for the night too. The Mistress has requested him to tidy up the place since tomorrow's a special day..."

The said person popped out at the kitchen's doorway only a second after, as though a mention of his name had prompted him to appear out of nowhere. "Huh, you guys are not done yet?" Osamu asked as he strode in. He stopped his in his tracks and stood very still, eyes widening as he took the sight of the kitchen. "Oh. Wow."

Simon folded his arms, white teeth flashing against the dark skin. "A pretty good artwork, huh? I'd say that our friend here has a genuine talent for decorating."

Jack snarled. "Shut the hell up, big guy. Just go already!"

Simon laughed as he turned to leave. "Yeah, yeah, I'll shut up and go away. Now make sure everything is clean as new when morning comes. We don't want to test the Mistress' patience. Don't forget to get the whole cafe dust-free by dawn," he said, waving them good-bye.

Osamu blinked at the disappearing Simon, then at Jack, then at the kitchen. "You're gonna have to pay me to help you cleaning up," he said with a blank look on his face.

Jack growled, letting his frustration finally show. "Charge that pink old hag or her loyal giant guardian." He paused to think. Jeannine wore pink from head to toe today... Or was it yellow? He couldn't remember so he quickly dismissed it. "I'm just doing my best to live up to their illogical expectations. You can't blame a worker for trying."

Osamu was already scanning the room for a mop. He made his way towards a cupboard and produced a white rag from a drawer. "At least you haven't burnt this place into ashes yet."

"You're the fourth person who said that to me."

"Am I?" The waiter rolled up his sleeves and began moping the nearest table. He stopped and looked up at the ticking clock. "Jeannine requested that everything is se before dawn. If we start working on the kitchen now, the job may take extra three or four hours with only the two of us," he mused aloud.

"Why should we do it all by ourselves?"

"You think the Mistress is the type to hire an emergency part-timer?"

With all the extra cost, no. That profit-freak wouldn't let a coin slip away from her clutch—wasting bucks on hiring part-timers wouldn't even occur to her if everything could still be managed by the staffs she had now. The question left was what _would _become of the staffs? Jack put a hand on his hip, skeptical. "Why is she not letting the girls help us with this? They can come earlier tomorrow, right?"

Osamu was already shaking his head. "Nah. They will be busy beautifying themselves." Must be a bunch of important guests, Jack thought with derision, if Jeannine was willing to spend some money on makeup kits and perfumes. Suddenly, he felt pity for the girls. They would surely be tormented by the old hag's manicured hands tomorrow.

Osamu seemed lost in thought for a moment, then he fished his cellphone from his pocket and start dialing.

"Who're you calling at this hour?"

"The only night owls I know who wouldn't turn down a friend's request in the middle of a night."

It took Jack two seconds to process what Osamu meant, and when he finally grasped his words, he snorted. "And what makes you think the old hag would let them help?" If he were the cafe owner, letting strangers into his home at midnight wouldn't appeal as the brightest idea.

"But—" Of course there was a 'but.' "This is Jeannine we're talking about," Osamu replied. "She'd be delighted at the prospect of having some extra hands. For free."

Indeed she would. "More people can't hurt, huh. Just make sure they—"

"Bruno." Osamu greeted the hologram of a young man with blue hair whose face was still scrunched from sleep. "Mind if I ask for a favor?"

"—park their Runners far away from the cafe," Jack finished as he turned to continue with his work. "Waking up Rainbow Grandma sounds very rude. She doesn't have much respect for Riding Duelists and we don't want to make it drop even more." If working with Jeannine had instilled in him some sense of precaution and increased his skill in psychological field, then his hunches that told him the said lady didn't fancy 'low street punks' much would be guaranteed. Jeannine wasn't one to deal with people she didn't respect with courtesy, and even with less patience should she know that there were strangers dwelling in her cafe. Dealing with an angry mother hen, a profit-freak pink-wigged mother hag—hen, he corrected himself—wasn't his brightest idea of an ideal morning should be. So he added, "Tell them to be prepared to run at lightning speed when I command them to."

* * *

xx - 5D's - xx

* * *

It turned out that tomorrow's special day was Valentine's Day, and that Simon had left a bunch of decor materials at the longue. A small note with a scrawny handwriting read: 'Lmost forgot to give u these. Make d place pretty, kay? –S.'

Clean _and _pretty equaled more work _and _less sleep. Thankfully, Yusei, Bruno and Crow had come earlier than they'd expected, and albeit a bit begrudgingly, they'd agreed to help. Crow, in particular, had been fuming when he'd heard what he had to go through. "Damn, this is _gross_!" the heavily marked duelist groaned. He was dealing with what even Osamu had avoided for quite some time: the expired food.

Crow took out a pack of meat that...well, didn't look edible/cookable anymore to put it simply. Smelling it from ten paces away already made Jack's insides do a violent somersault. He cursed the fact that Jeannine had an uncanny tendency, if not a sick hobby, to keep food until they were past their expiration dates. Simon had told everyone to always store leftover materials from the day's serving in the third fridge that was tucked in the corner of the kitchen. Jack had obliged, and so had everyone, but he never really had the chance or interest to see what was actually inside. Until he had to, which was now.

"Just be grateful they're not maggoty yet," Bruno mumbled as he walked past the fridge with a large garbage can, a putrid scent trailing on his wake like a cheap cologne. It was in dire need of washing after being used all day, and Jack was secretly grateful the mechanic had the naivety that any amnesiac youth would share. He hadn't asked a thing when Jack had ordered him to do the job.

"Gods, they stink," Crow muttered. He gathered what was still left inside the fridge with a wrinkled nose. "I'm seriously going to doubt the quality of the food they serve here."

Osamu, who was working on a set of colorful fabrications, spared Crow a pitiful glance. "The owner's generous when it comes into serving—"Treat customers as kings," is her motto. I can guarantee that we serve nothing but the best." He paused and gave the rotting materials Crow was working on a critical look. "But yeah, she's a Hitler when it comes into money."

"Try to work here for a day and see if you can stand her," Jack added.

"Thanks but no thanks," came the weak reply from Yusei. He was working on what Crow had not been able to throw out, and truth to be told, Jack was enjoying the dark look on his foster brother's face. If there was something that could irk Yusei's nerves, Jack was going to prize it. Call it a petty sense of rivalry, but enjoyment rarely came since his days as Jeanine's slave began.

The torment of working in the kitchen lasted for a full one hour that seemed to have stretched longer than it actually was. Crow was uncharacteristically silent throughout the ordeal, prompting the other boys to work seriously too—all in order to get out of the damned kitchen as fast as possible. By the time they had finished, the clock had already indicated that it was past two in the morning. The cafe would open at nine, which meant they didn't have much time to waste. If they wanted to get some sleep, of course.

Osamu retrieved a folded paper from a table when they had moved to work in the dining room. He read it for a full one minute before settling his eyes on the pile of materials in front of him. "All right, so we are supposed to use these," he said as he waved a hand toward the colorful fabrics, shiny plastic decorations, and heart-shaped toys, "to decorate the place. Make it full of love, as this note says." He rolled his eyes and tossed the paper to Jack.

Bruno was already inspecting the fabrics. "No specific instructions on how to lighten up the place?"

"Nope."

What an encouragement to use your creativity, Jack thought. Lazy giant. "How are we going to do it then? Anyone's here an expert in decorating cafes?"

"Hmm, I think I can already picture how the place will look like with these," said Bruno, his eyes scanning the whole room absently. For a second, the usually absent-minded-and-easy-going technician truly looked as if he was _thinking_ of something that didn't involve some lame jokes and stupid cracks. He moved his finger from right to left, pointing at certain places and spots where his thoughts must be. "We can hang these things there, put those little things close to the bar, attract female customers by putting these colorful fabrics outside..."

"Okay, okay, you tell us what to do," Crow cut in with a helpless gesture of his hands.

As if ignited, Bruno's face lit up with enthusiasm, much like child being told that he could grab any toy he came across in a department store. He handed over the fabrics he was holding to Osamu, who looked equally baffled as Jack was. Bruno giving instructions outside of the field of machinery was both surprising and suspicious. "Try to hang these from that point, make it look like they're some sort of curtains. Crow, you can work with Jack to hang these hearts on the ceiling. Yusei—" he paused to snap his fingers at him. "Hey, man. Are you even listening to me?"

The Head Signer recovered from whatever trance that had seized his mind as he blinked in surprise. "Huh? Oh, you were talking? Did you hear that?"

"Hear what? Your mind falling apart or your stomach rumbling?" Crow sneered.

The crease between his eyebrows deepened. "No..._that_. That sound. It's like it's coming from upstairs."

Everyone traded glances with varying level of confusion in the brief silence the followed. Osamu shrugged. "Don't hear anything."

Just when Jack was opening his mouth to accuse Yusei of daydreaming, a screeching sound was audible. It was very soft and distant, but it was there; audible. The screeching sound stopped for a heartful second before it resounded again, and suddenly Jack felt that the lighting of the cafe was too dark and the stillness too suffocating.

Judging by the looks on everyone's faces, they must have heard it too. Yusei tilted his head in concentration. "Now did you hear _that_?"

Bruno closed his eyes for some seconds, trying to capture the soft sound better. "Yeah. And it's constant."

"I wonder what it is," Osamu mused aloud.

Crow, like a senseless, deaf mule he was, quirked an eyebrow and said, "I don't hear anything."

Jack took that as a cue that the short guy was in some need of a good knocking in the head. So he gave him one.

"Aw!" Crow protested, rubbing the back of his head where Jack had just smacked him on. "What was that for?"

Yusei sighed. "Quiet down, you two."

Again, the screeching sound got a bit louder, and it finally made the gang shut their mouths and frown. Osamu pointed his thumb upward, "Is it coming from the second floor?"

"What's in there?" asked Crow.

"The hag's working place, rooms for staffs, and a mini-storage area," Jack supplied. "The hag sleeps in the third floor." The cafe was practically her sanctuary, or more like her palace, he corrected himself. Everything went by her rules and standards, so yeah, it was practically _her _kingdom. Hags be damned. "I'm pretty sure it's just a cat or some sort of animal."

Bruno was already moving toward the staircase at the far back of the room. "Do you think there's a chance for a burglar to break in from the second floor?"

At the mention of the infamous profession, Yusei's head snapped up, seemingly on high alert now that his presence of mind had returned. "Burglar? Is there a porch up there?"

The possibility was low, given that Neo Domino had returned to its peaceful state, but it was there nonetheless. Jack thought for a moment, then said, "Well there are four, actually. Two on each level."

Crow's voice had strangely got thinner when he spoke. "You...sure you wanna check it out?" he asked to Bruno and Yusei.

The blue-haired man raised his eyebrows, nonchalant. "Why shouldn't we? We'll never know what it is until we check it, right?"

"Well, then let's." Jack put down the colorful straps and clothes he was holding and strode to Bruno's side. If something were to happen to the cafe, he wasn't sure that he and Osamu would live to see another day, much less to enter the World Tournament. At the foot of the staircase, he craned up his neck and tried to peer into the looming darkness. The second floor's lights was off. Had Simon left them off, or had someone turned them off on purpose? Slowly, he ascended the stairs.

Crow's whimper was swallowed by Yusei and Osamu's hushed voices, and soon, everyone followed him closely. The moment Jack's foot entered the second floor area, he stopped in his tracks. Someone bumped him from behind.

"Ouch." The voice was Bruno's. "Why did you stop so suddenly?"

The hallway may be devoid of light in the night, but Jack could clearly see that the door leading to the hag's working room was opened. He informed what he saw to everyone and they grew even more silent save for Crow's weak gulping. "We'll move to see," he said.

They tiptoed through the hallway until they were only two steps away from the opened door. True enough, the sound seemed to come from the room. Jack couldn't quite place it, but it sounded as if someone was screeching his nails on a wood board. He gave a signal to his friends with his hand that he would enter first and they were to follow soon. They nodded, and with an intake of breath, Jack lunged in.

"Who goes there?!" he yelled.

A squeak came in response. No...not a squeak. A...cat's strangled voice was more like it.

Suddenly, a small, ball of fur leapt onto his face. Reflexes made him skid to the left, and the fur thing ended up on Osamu's face instead. "Ow! Ow, ow, ow! Hell!" he roared as he moved frantically to smash down the thing. It didn't yield and kept on clawing at him.

Before anyone could react to the scene, a cold shower sprayed on Jack's unguarded back, hard and unrelenting. "Wha—?!"

A high-pitched voice he knew all too well followed the water attack: "Get out of my place you scoundrels!"

"Jeannine?!" Jack tried to look back to console the woman, but it only appeared to fuel the lady's anger even greater. She sloshed again, shook the fire extinguisher she was holding, and the powerful flow of water hit him straight in the face.

She sprayed the water to the rest of the boys too, all the while shouting, "Get out! Filthy burglars! Out of my sight!"

Osamu tried to defend himself by using his arms as a shield. "Wait, wait! Let us expl—"

His plea was cut with another attack from Jeannine, who had turned on the fire sprinkler which was now shooting arrows of water down on them. In the blinding water attack and semi-darkness, Jack was able to see her furious face—her furious face with white facial mask applied thickly on it—and cursed her for, perhaps, the hundredth time in life. "To think that you guys would cooperate with lowly criminals!" she shouted as she pumped the water again.

Jack tried to reach out to take out the fire extinguisher from her hands. "Old lady, quit it!"

But that move too seemed to be a mistake. Jeannine took that as an aggressive stimulus and let out a device from her pajamas' pocket with a snarl, the black thing was only the size of a man's hand. Jack had only a split second to realize what it was, and before he could scream to alert his comrades, electricity numbed his mind and body and darkness claimed him.

Damned be the person who invented the stun gun.


	13. Echo - Chapter 4

_**AN - 3rd September 2013: **I'm sorry for the late update. Assignments are killing me. Again. I will try to update on a regular basis (twice a month, if my schedule is being lenient on me), and I just want to say that I am working on your prompts. They have not been abandoned, I assure you._

_And thank you to all the readers of this anthology! I'm always awed to see that this fanfiction is clicked by new readers everyday. You guys are the best!_

* * *

***~ Echo ~***

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Starring: Aki I.

Genre: Romance / Drama / Humor

Rating: T

Time Setting: Tag Force 5

Story by: Lushard

Type: Multi-chapter

* * *

"What are you guys doing here?"

The boys turned their heads lazily toward a bewildered Aki, their eyes watery and their gaze heavy with sleep. Yusei, who seemed to be the most alert of them all—if alert meant half-asleep and bearing panda-eyes—said from the seat he occupied, "We were asked to help to decorate the place." He waved a hand to indicate the works they had done: the shower of colors that brought the place to life, the hanging heart-shaped medallions, table sheets of various colors, pots of flowers...

Aki blinked, her jaw slightly dropping. "Jeannine _hired _extra hands to decorate?" Spending more money than what she thought necessary was a sin, according to Jeannine's personal holy bible. She had high standards when it came to 'necessary' too. She couldn't imagine her hiring three extra pairs of hands to work when she could exhaust her staffs to the point of starvation.

This time, Bruno was the one to reply. Unlike Yusei and Crow, he seemed a little bit healthier though less awake than the former. He showed no signs of having a cold or suffering a headache at least. His half-closed eyes told a different story. "Nope. We were called by _your _colleagues last night to help, since, you know, it's kinda impossible to decorate the whole place for Valentine's Day in one night with just two people working on it."

"You mean Osamu and Jack?"

"Who else?"

She searched around the room to find the two guys but found no one, save for Yuki who was busy arranging plates and mugs. "How come they're not with you?"

Crow, whose head was still glued to the table's surface with a pack of tissue stashed nearby, sneezed, and muttered something incoherent under his breath, sounding both begrudging and irritated. Lack of sleep seemed to have already taken his mind into the underworld, and his cold didn't make him look any better. Yusei spoke for him. "They were spared three hours of sleep by the cafe owner, saying that they need to look fresh for today." _Sucks to be them_, Aki could see the words that were left unsaid.

"We're the ones who did _all _the work in the end," added Bruno. He stifled a yawn. "When will the cafe open by the way?"

"Soon," she replied, checking the antique clock behind the bar. "In fifteen minutes or so. Umm, I can get you guys some coffee if you want."

Yusei's face actually cringed at that. Aki understood what he must be thinking, so she quickly added, "Oh, don't worry. It'll be my treat." She stole a glance at Yuki and received a small sympathetic nod from the older woman. "Yuki's too. We're the staffs of this cafe, so let us at least thank you for all the work you've done in our stead."

Yusei and Bruno shot their thanks (minus Crow, since the marked duelist was already asleep with his head resting on the table.) She was about to go to the bar when Jeannine popped out, seemingly out of nowhere as usual, and clapped her hands for attention. She was a combination of red and pink today, colors that normally would represent Valentine but looked ill-fitting with her towering purple wig. Aki paused to give a head bow.

"Girls, Ms. Usami is unable to come today. She just called and it seems that her parent is ill and she has to stay home," Jeannine announced. Her face was colored with obvious disdain at the news. "As you know today will be a busy day—"she pressed the word 'will' with some force and a great amount of faith and greed— "so please make yourselves useful. Mr. Satou and Mr. Atlas will assist you girls in serving—in Atlas' case it means standing near the door doing something unharmful—so basically you all will work together and do whatever it takes to please our customers. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Mistress," they said in perfect unison.

"Good. Then you can help preparing our special menu for today, Miss Izayoi. Even little cookies do not bake themselves."

Aki debated in her mind whether or not to ask for a short five minutes to serve the guys what she had promised them, but Jeannine wasn't showing any room for her to compromise with the order. Yuki touched her elbow to indicate that she would make the coffee for them. "All right," she finally said.

As she was following Jeannine to the kitchen, her mind travelled to the bags of chocolate she had stored in her locker. She had prepared them since yesterday, hoping that she would get a chance to give them personally to the 5D's team members, one by one. Hours she had spent reading books about how to make them, and more had been consumed in the kitchen. The phrase 'trials and errors' was on a whole new level for her now. Giving them was a another trial; she had originally planned to go to Zora's place to hand the tokens by herself, but what she had not expected that the guys had already assembled in the cafe, looking worn out, cold, and ready to fall asleep at any time. If she didn't even have time to treat them some cups of coffee, she doubted she would get one to give the gifts to them.

Jeannine led her to a table where bags of flour, bowls, eggs and various materials were lying in wait. She handed a note, a recipe, to Aki. "I need you to work in a flash before a horde of customers come," she told her, curt as usual. "Prepare at least fifty of them for this morning, see if more is required, and make more as situation demands. These will be our treat to them, a bonus from me." To boost the cafe's popularity, no doubt. Jeannine was someone who wouldn't approve of random act of charity without weighing the profits and loss beforehand. "One of the chef's boys will take over if you're busy serving customers." And with that, she left her.

Aki studied the note in her hand, figuring out what to do first and how much time she would have to—

"Two pancakes for table four!" shouted a kitchen boy.

Okay. Work should come first, personal matters second. Getting fired now would only put the team in a worse position for the WRGP, after all. So, with that in mind, she began to work.

* * *

xx - 5D's - xx

* * *

Valentine's Day was something Aki was beginning to hate when the clock told her that it was now already eleven. She had worked like hell from nine, making cookies, serving trays of food and drinks, and going back to the kitchen to make more of Jeannine's bonus cookies. In merely two hours she was already feeling exhausted and wishing that noon would come so she could take a break and get the chocolates in her locker. But apparently, even that simple wish was not granted by the Crimson Dragon.

At, perhaps the twentieth time, she emerged from the kitchen to serve a customer a cup of tea, the table the guys had occupied was empty. She blinked at Yuki. "They've left?"

"They have," she replied as she walked past her to move to another table. When Yuki was done with the customer, she approached Aki and patted her shoulder. "They said that they were going to go back to rest. They wished you a happy Valentine," she blinked playfully at her.

Aki tried to ignore the lump settling in her throat and flashed a smile. She had known that they would not linger for long, not with those half-shut eyes and stuffed noses, but still...missing a chance to thank them properly for what they'd done this whole year stung her. _There would always be tomorrow_, she decided, trying to shove the bitter feelings away. It was unlikely that she would be able to drop by after work; if she hadn't got it wrong, Valentine meant extra hours of work. And extra hours of work meant a whole new deal under Jeannine's enslavement.

A customer's raised hand quickly demanded her to wipe away any lingering thoughts of regret. She approached the man, noted down his order with a smile she hoped was not faltering, and hurriedly walked back to the counter. Perhaps it was her lack of attention, or the timing in which she stepped before the door leading to the kitchen, or simply her bad luck, but the moment she found that a person was emerging from the double door with a tray it was already too late for her to step aside to avoid collision.

She felt, rather than saw, her feet's awkward stagger as they tried to halt, her arms meeting the hard material of a wooden tray, and the reflexive move of her body in a futile attempt to steady itself. All in one second that seemed to be too quick to be grasped yet too slow that she could see every detail of the steaming cups of coffee flew from the tray. Osamu's widening eyes were the last thing she assessed; a muted gasp escaped her lips.

Time resumed its halted advanced, and a clattering sound of cups breaking on her feet ached her insides. She had a split second to realize that the hot coffee had splashed on her uniform, and was losing her senses for a short period of time that they were late to inform her that some had also splashed on _his _face.

A short cry of pain from the waiter startled her pausing brain. She covered her mouth with both hands in reflex the moment she realized Osamu was clawing at his face—his _scarred_ face—in agony and surprise. Everyone in the longue turned their eyes in shock.

Yuki was the first person who reacted. "Satou!" she broke the silence. Osamu was kneeling, his hands covering his face. Yuki quickly ran to his side with a wet handkerchief in her hand. "Use this." She didn't wait for him to take it; instead she moved one of his hands away and carefully brought the piece of cloth to his face.

Osamu was keeping his mouth shut, and behind his hand and the handkerchief, Aki could see his reddening face harden. Aki settled down before him, unsure of what to do, but immediately shoved off by a rushing Shoko who'd just emerged from the door. The waitress' eyes widened at the sight; she looked at the still customers, the floor with splatters of coffee and remnants of the cups, then back at the kneeling Osamu and Yuki. The explanation she was seeking came from her friend. "An accident," Yuki informed her in a low voice. She nudged Osamu and helped him to stand up. "Would you mind cleaning it up?"

Shoko nodded stiffly, and Aki couldn't help but to lower her head at the older woman's peering eyes. Yuki led Osamu to the door. She gave Aki a look that motioned her to follow them inside—out of the staring customers' range of sight.

The door behind them slammed shut. Aki heard the stifled conversations behind it. She bit her lower lip, trying to ignore them and focus on what had to be done. Yuki walked Osamu to the Changing Room at the back of the building, soothing him with soft murmurs as they traced quick steps toward it. Aki quietly fell into step behind them. She wanted to say something, wanted to apologize for her mistake, wanted to take over Yuki's job to make up for it, but found herself unable to utter a single word. Instead, her mind and heart were filled with rage. How careless she had been! How could she have been late to avoid him—how could she have not spotted him before the door?! Had her mind so preoccupied with valentine matter that she had lost her focus at work? How ridiculous of her! How foolish!

"Aki."

The mention of her name snapped her head up. They were already in the Changing Room. Yuki was tending to Osamu with a new towel she had grabbed from a locker, and the guy was sitting with both elbows propped on knees, face still obscured by the white cloth.

"Yes...?"

Yuki opened her mouth but promptly closed it again, rethinking her words it seemed. She shook her head. When she spoke, her voice was deceptively deep and calm. "You go change. Clean yourself and let Shoko and me take care of this mess. Don't show up at the longue. I will tell the Mistress; don't speak to her unless necessary."

She understood her kindness and wisdom. Words and alibi were not going to cut it in this kind of circumstances. Dealing with Jeannine when you were clearly was at fault was not a good decision for the time being and so it would be best to leave it to them. With one last glance at Osamu, she went for the bathroom.

Taking a shower and changing into fresh clothes consumed twenty minutes that felt like an hour. She made sure that no coffee scent was still attached to her hair and skin, rubbed her body a bit too roughly with soap, then clothed herself swiftly. By the time she was back at the Changing Room, Yuki had gone.

Osamu was seated on a bench in the same position she had seen him last. His clothes had been changed: he was wearing only his white shirt which was left untucked, and his hair was still dripping water from the quick shower he seemed to have taken. The towel was now dangling at his neck. His face, thoguh, was still slightly red, his skin like that of a baby's.

Aki slowly approached him. Her throat felt tight. "I'm...sorry for what happened," she offered weakly. Osamu didn't move nor did he glance up at her. She took a seat beside him. "May I help—"

The hand that was reaching out for the towel was brushed off with a movement of his right hand. It wasn't a slap but it still hurt her in a place she hadn't known existed within her. He quietly settled back into rubbing his face with the towel again.

Noticing the scars on his cheeks, Aki said, "Maybe I can get something to make you feel better...?"

"No need," came the short answer. "Yuki has applied some sort of salve."

"Oh." Think, she told herself. _Think. And say something_. "You're...mad at me, aren't you?"

Finally he sighed and turned his face to face her. There was no accusation in his eyes, but there was definitely something in there...something else that she couldn't quite name. Disappointment? Repressed anger? "I'm not mad for what's happened," he said. "I'm just frustrated at _you_."

She blinked twice, taken aback. Osamu continued, "At your lack of attention and focus, to be precise. You seem to be always drifting off ever since we started working here. You think I didn't notice that?"

"I..."

"You always have this kind of empty gaze whenever you're not with the others or when you work alone." His tone was dropping low, his gaze less intense. "Are you really that uncomfortable having to work here?"

"No." Her answer flew out of her mouth even before she thought of it. "No," she reaffirmed. "Quite the opposite, I've never felt this grateful. Working has opened my eyes to a lot of things, but..."

At her unfinished sentence Osamu smiled. She couldn't be sure whether it was a gesture of mockery or pity. "But of course there will always be a 'but' with you. Can't you be just glad without feeling miserable?"

"Pardon?"

He put down the towel and readjusted his collar, buttoning his shirt. "Just what I said. Can't you just be glad without being miserable? Put down your luggage for once, and just walk freely." He looked at her then, his eyes gleaming with open curiosity and shaded sympathy. "Aren't you tired living like that all the time?"

Being haunted by the past and tortured by the uncertainty tomorrow would bring... How long had she let those chains bind her? How long had it been since she had felt truly free, her shoulders light without burdens? A year, perhaps? Or had she been set free in the first place? _Am I still a prisoner of my own past and fears?_

Sudden reminiscence of what she had been through years before meeting Yusei and the gang made her heart beat painfully louder. To them, she was just an enigma of destruction they'd decided to adopt, to nurture, and to accept. But to her, the countless of lives she had hurt and taken when she had still been the Black Rose were loads she wasn't sure she could be rid of. Hundreds had been devoured by the explosion at the main base of the Arcadia Movement, and more had been scarred by the loss of their loved ones. All was a result of her doing.

Parents and friends of those who had been killed certainly wouldn't forgive her for what she'd done. She was sure of it. The occasional glares and horrified glances people gave her way whenever she passed the streets confirmed her of that. She let out a short bitter laugh. "So you see it?"

He shrugged. "Someone's gotta be blind not to notice."

"Not everyone can be like you, Osamu. Believe me when I say I am very happy to work, to be some sort of help to you all, and I will always be happy to. But," of course, more 'buts' were coming—_me and my silliness_, "I _am _really trying to live in the present, just like what Yusei has told me to do. I know my past is long gone and my fears unreasonable...but I'm just...me, I guess."

"There's no changing to that."

"Yes, and that's exactly why I'm—"

"You're looking so dozed off whenever you touch a tray and looking as if your mind is at a faraway land when you're cleaning up?"

"No, stop." This again. She had guessed that this was coming, and with Osamu, her hunches had proven to be almost true at all times. Even though his face was as blank as a wall, there was no mistaking that he was beginning to switch his stance into his usual persona: laid-back and teasing. He was always easy to anger, but also quick to forgive and forget. That was one of the many things in him she could never understand. Always with the brushing smiles, always with the witty comments. "You have every right to be angry, you know. It was clearly my fault—and I am also sorry for my lack of attention. It...wasn't because of me being uncomfortable working either..."

He waited for her, as he always did, and Aki felt another stab of guilt pierced through her. "I was just..." She searched for a word and found it, "distracted by my thoughts. Selfish thoughts, really. All that matters now is—"

"Is that it was me instead of a customer," he finished for her. At her attempt to rebut it, he said, "Just be glad it wasn't Jeannine or a guest. Things wouldn't be pretty if that was the case."

"Fine, you were glad it was you, but I am not."

"Suit yourself."

Aki thought of taking the towel from his hand but her hand wasn't complying; her conscience was telling her against it. "So, what happened? With your face, I mean. How did you get all those scars?"

Immediately his face darkened. "Ask Jack or the others. I don't want to even talk about it."

"Were you involved in a street fight or some sort?"

"It'd be much cooler if that was true," Osamu said with a roll of his eyes. "Believe me it's a disgrace for all men by just thinking about it. Just let it slide, okay."

The scars were too patterned and close-knitted to be products of a normal fight, she observed, and she could think of some creatures and weapons that were able to imprint such wounds on one's face. And given Osamu's initial bad luck with animals, her list of possible suspects narrowed down to only one creature. A creature with soft fur and slitted eyes. She wisely kept her tongue tied and her expression neutral.

"So," she finally said when Osamu stared hard at the floor, "will you forgive me?"

"Hm. That shall depend on your attitude and future actions. No, if you keep spacing out; yes, if you promise to pay attention more to the present time."

"I promise that won't happen again."

He stared at her for a second, eyes narrowing. "You look unsure."

"Well, because I'm not sure whether you are mad or not."

His face quickly morphed into an insulted expression. He drew his mouth into a pout. "Of course I'm still mad. Can't you see the smokes puffing from my ears?"

Aki blinked slowly. It was then she was made aware of the tight grip on her heart. For a split moment, her brain deceived her into wondering what was the cause of that bitter feeling. But then her logic spoke for her.

It was irritation, simple and flat, which was caused by his words. It was a heavy feeling she hadn't acknowledged until she realized its true nature. She would, after all, play along by countering his taunts and cracks or she would simply laugh it off. It had always been like that; _they _had always been like that.

Not today.

Yuki's eyes that had bored into hers the moment before she had been asked to clean herself clicked something inside her. There was a part in her heart that was layered with reasons for everything, making it impossible for her to reach into it, to even examine what it held. What barricaded that part were the many reasons her mind had made up to cover the holes she couldn't dare to ask.

_Why have Yusei and the others accepted me when I bear thorns?_

_Why have I been forgiven?_

All the whys. All the buts.

_"Weren't you expecting this? Their rejection."_

Yuki's pitiful glance thirty minutes ago had brought up all those unanswered questions and buried feelings of detachment into the surface of her consciousness. To Osamu, she would always be a little girl, someone he felt sorry for, someone to look after. She would never be able to stand as his equal. And she was probably not the only one who was thinking like this. That realization was creeping into her mind like a blinding fog.

With a face she hoped was blank and unreadable, she whispered, "You can stop treating me like a child."

"What?"

The smile that bloomed on her lips was cold and devoid of any good emotions. "Just what I said. You can stop treating like I'm some lost child you have to take care of."

Osamu's utter look of confusion turned into wariness, and he reached out his hand to touch her shoulder. The contact sent a painful sting to her skin. "Hey—"

Aki backed away. Her hand moved to her arm, to the spot where he'd touched her, and felt too overwhelmed by this... strange sensation that shut her brains and thoughts. Osamu had the wits not to move from his place. He asked nonetheless. "What is it, all of a sudden? Am I a leper to you now that I've reprimanded you?"

_No_, she wanted to say, but her voice had died out.

"So?" Osamu sounded annoyed now. Angry, even. "I told you to be more attentive when at work and you promised that you will. And now you're throwing this tantrum-behavior at me _again_."

The last remark didn't miss its target. She looked back at him, feeling dejected, _furious_. "While all you've been doing is treating me like I'm your little sister?" she shot back. "Someone who never does anything well without her big brother's help and advice?!"

"Yeah? Then tell me what you've been doing that you can label 'great' without Yusei and the gang! Aren't you the one who takes everything for granted?"

"For granted?" She snorted a laugh and shook her head. "Oh yes, and that's why I'm working here in the first place, isn't it? To take things for granted."

"Then—"

The door that flung open cut off his words. Jeannine entered with long, elegant strides. Her face was a mask of anger, and for a second, Aki thought of a flashy thunder clouds with glasses and mascara. Aki quickly stood up, and so did Osamu.

"I've heard." The statement was short and sharp like a quick slash of a blade. Aki swallowed, preparing herself to hear what the cafe owner had to say. She tried desperately to control her breathing and repress the gnawing anger in her chest. "Mr. Satou." Jeannine turned her head in a dramatic motion toward Osamu. "By any chance, are you suffering a major damage?"

If there was anything that was still left in him to indicate that he was still mad, it would only be the slightly tight lines on his face. "Just a little burnt is all. If you're asking if I could still work until this day's over then yeah, I think I could. Just, maybe you wouldn't want me making any appearances in front of the customers."

Jeannine nodded once. She turned toward Aki, and in an instant, her narrowing eyes felt as if they were shooting laser beams. "_Miss Izayoi_." The words were deliberate and dripping with acid.

Aki struggled to keep her voice even when she spoke. "Yes?"

"Do you realize how much damage you've done to our reputation? Shaming your own colleague in front of relaxing guests in the noon, breaking antique cups and wasting a great amount of excellent coffee."

"I am fully aware of what I have done." She dipped her head lower in apology, escaping Jeannine's blatant challenge. "Of course I will also take the blame for everything—"

"Wait—"

"—and I will pay for the damage I have caused," she finished, ignoring Osamu's attempt on interrupting her. She wouldn't let him be held responsible for the errors which were obviously hers. And she wouldnot start giving him a reason to look down upon her again.

Jeannine adjusted her glasses. "I guess being a daughter of a senator certifies your word. I take it that you will return tomorrow with a cheque."

Again Osamu tried to say something and once again Aki prevented him from speaking. "Yes I will," she said, locking eyes with Jeannine while silently hoping that her gaze wouldn't waver.

"Good. Now make sure you two don't appear in front of the guests until all who have seen the accident have left. You can make sure we have enough cookies and an extra hand in serving the coffee, while you, Mr. Satou, will help her in any way you can. There's no reason to collide when you work in an open space without barricades, right?"

It was supposed to be a sarcastic rhetorical question, but Aki found herself suppressing the heat that was rising fast up to her cheeks for reasons she didn't want to ponder.

Jeannine took their silence as a yes and sighed deeply. "We haven't even lapsed to greet the evening and already I feel as if I've aged two years older. What would I do if my friends saw me, really?" Osamu rolled his eyes when Jeannine was not looking at them. "Oh well," she said, shoulders straightening up. "What's done is done. Dwelling in the past will age a lady, they say. Have a _good _day working in the kitchen."

With that, she disappeared behind the door, leaving the two in a heavy silence.


End file.
